#also…… i think there’s something about the macau air because like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lu-sn · 11 months

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for random braindump, chay and macau being classmates in canon and recognizing each other post season 1 at some family function

congratulations you've revived my macau & chay besties 4evr agenda. this is not quite what you asked for but it is what fell out of my brain 😅

chay is fresh off of baby's first kidnapping, and porsche sits him down in an interrogation room and slides a picture across the steel desk and goes, "okay, this kid. this kid goes to your school. this kid is also the little brother of the guy who kidnapped you. well, kind of. well-"

"hia," chay says, pinching his nose, "i get it. what do i do?"

porsche grabs him by the shoulders. "do not go near him. don't talk to him. don't even LOOK at him. DON'T-"

chay endures this lecture very patiently and then does actually follow porsche's instructions, because the kidnapping completely scared the shit out of him and now he lives with the mafia and his life is legitimately in danger. he's gonna listen to what porsche says, no questions asked.

and then macau, who has literally never spoken to chay before ever (he has no reason to, he's one year younger and he's not studying music) starts popping up everywhere.

"hey," macau says, leaning precariously over the water fountain to stare at chay, who sprays water in his own face as he jumps six feet in the air before immediately sprinting away.

or, chay turns around in the lunch line and macau is standing right behind him, wagging his eyebrows, and chay lets out a small "eep" and then whirls back around and pretends very hard that macau isn't there.

or! chay is walking to his bus stop and macau is standing there looking at his phone, and this is ridiculous. chay has never seen macau take this bus before! so chay throws his hands up in exasperation and books it for the next bus stop, he's not putting up with this bullshit, no sir.

(macau is absolutely doing it on purpose. he's known about chay for months, but is actually on explicit orders from vegas to not bother or spy on chay in any way. he definitely wanted to help, but vegas didn't want macau to be thinking about that kind of stuff at school.

macau is flouting these orders now because vegas has been banished and porsche had something to do with it and he's hoping at first that he can fish information about all of that out of chay. but now he's in it for the trolling 😂)

macau doesn't know about the kidnapping. he doesn't know how personally chay is taking this — until he spots chay under a tree and saunters over to bother him, except. chay looks fucking wrecked. and like he's trying to hide it.

something clicks for macau. he totally gets it. sometimes you have to have a mafia-related breakdown at school, and all you can do is find a quiet place to have it.

(macau doesn't know chay is sad because of kim, but he doesn't need to.)

so when chay spots him, and tenses, and looks ready to bolt — macau halts and holds his hands up in surrender. then he waves, kind of awkwardly. and he leaves.

this very sudden generosity does surprise chay. and it continues to surprise chay when macau continues to wave at him whenever they see each other, but doesn't try to approach him. chay is still suspicious of macau, but chay is also a nice kid, and macau really isn't doing anything objectionable. so chay starts waving back.

this truce goes on for a while. and sure, chay isn't following the letter of the law anymore, but it's not like he's giving away information. he's not putting anyone in danger. and it's kind of comforting to have this shared understanding with this kid he doesn't even know. they're in the same boat. chay might not be able to talk to him, but chay feels a little less alone.

there's a million ways they could start talking after this. maybe macau just decides to take the plunge and plops down in front of chay during lunch and starts rambling about valorant. maybe macau is searching his pockets for change for the vending machine, and chay watches him do this for like five minutes and decides he needs to put macau out of his misery.

or maybe one of them finds the other having a panic attack in the bathroom, and talks them through it. (they're both better at this than they should be.)

or. maybe it's after the coup, and now macau is the one looking horribly withdrawn and jittery, and chay knows macau's brother is in a coma, and chay isn't feeling particularly happy about his own brother or anyone in the goddamn main family right now. so he says fuck it, and goes over to bump shoulders nonchalantly with macau.

maybe it's all of those. doesn't matter. they become friends. they're both lonely, and they're just too similar. too young, too tied to the mafia, too scared for their brothers, too little control over their own lives.

and it's not like they ever actually talk about being in the mafia. both of them know better than to give secrets away. they mostly just talk about gaming and homework and roast each other's tastes in music, and occasionally they allude to not being able to sleep, and sometimes they stutter to a stop to avoid saying something they shouldn't — but they both know to let it go. no need to fill in the gaps with lies, to pretend like everything is normal and okay.

it's nice. they're chill.

later, when porsche tells him they're having "family dinner" tomorrow night, chay doesn't realize that includes the former minor family, and he DEFINITELY doesn't realize macau is going to be there. which means he isn't prepared for macau to spot him at dinner and grin and start walking towards him, BECAUSE MACAU DOESN'T KNOW CHAY IS STILL BANNED FROM TALKING TO HIM.

chay is frantically gesturing at macau from behind porsche, making shh-ing motions and throat-slitting motions and shaking his head threateningly. and macau stops, puzzled, narrows his eyes — sly grin flickering across his face for a split second — points directly and dramatically at chay and goes "what are YOU doing here???"

chay facepalms.

macau puts a hand over his mouth and gasps. "have you been in the mafia this whole time?" then, louder, "i can't believe NOBODY told me."

"oh god," chay mumbles into his hand.

porsche is watching this go down, totally bemused. (vegas is also watching this go down, except vegas actually knows what's going on and is mostly amused about it.)

"chay," porsche says tentatively, "this is macau, vegas's little brother." then he nods expectantly at chay — like chay is supposed to do something now? is chay un-banned??? when the hell did that happen?

chay sighs. "hi, macau," he says, deadpan.

macau shakes his hand vigorously. "you play valorant?" he asks, like macau doesn't roast chay over vc every night.

"i'm gonna kick your ass to the curb," chay mutters, low enough that only macau can hear him.

"maybe when you get good," macau says, unrepentanly smug.

#there is a good portion of this that was lifted straight from my chay fic #coming to theaters near you never #🥲#one day perhaps #anyway chay's adrenaline is just going down from having dodged the macau bullet at this family dinner when #kim walks in 😂#rip chay rest in pieces #does macau immediately clock what's going on? probably not #from his perspective kimchay is probably the weirdest crossover ever #thank you for the ask! this was... very long i apologize #kinnporsche #porchay kittisawasd #macau theerapanyakul #does this count as macauchay? i have no clue #macau & chay #mine: asks #rainy day asks

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bitacrytic · 1 year

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Talk about the major vs minor family has me wondering what Porsche is gonna do as the head of minor family and how does Vegas react to that. Also Porsche being at odds with Kinn because of this new position: Was this set up purposely to get a crack in their relationship? Probably. Will Vegas just sit back quietly twiddling his thumbs after getting demoted? Probably not.

Anon, are you are asking for canon spoilers? If you are, I'm sorry, I don't follow the books, so I can't tell you about the main/minor dynamics, beyond what the show has given us.

HOWEVER, if you're asking for my personal take???

Let's take your points one at a time.

What is Porsche going to do as head of the minor family and how does Vegas react to that?

I feel like Porsche is going to work with Vegas... not above Vegas. It wouldn't take a genius to know that Vegas knows minor family shit more than Porsche ever will. Considering how easily Porsche followed Vegas' lead with Uncle Thee, I feel like this is a possible progression.

He will never trust Vegas fully. I can see him double-checking Vegas' work or verifying details, but I can also see him following Vegas' lead.

Vegas might take a few months off, when he leaves the hospital. I can see him and Pete and Macau going to a DIFFERENT safe house for some fish air. But by the time Porsche burns down a few bridges, Vegas has to come back to work.

He'll handle business but I don't see him being resentful about the ring or Porsche being the "leader" of the minor family. If anything, it's good that it's Porsche and not Kinn or Korn. I imagine that Vegas might need a couple of years before he's ready to be in a room with either of them without reaching for a gun.

Porsche being at odds with Kinn because of his new position. Was it set up purposely to get a crack in their ship?

To say that Porsche and Kinn won't have trust issues or fight or break up is wishful thinking. Kinn hasn't worked through his issues yet and Pordche leaving him to go with Vegas was extremely traumatic. So, him magically becoming a trusting boyfriend is bullshit. I believe they still have work to do. Add to the fact that Porsche has developed his own trust issues and we have fiasco after fiasco in the making.

However, now that they're not hidden anymore, now that Porsche has his family and Kinn's friends and family know about Porsche, and Porsche is no longer just some bodyguard, I see their quarrels being hashed out, with people like Tankhun and Chay to go between. Because, I can't help but imagine what Kinn would do, if he was pissed at Porsche and hurling insults, only for Tankhun to enter into the room. And I know Chay will not hesitate to call porsche out when he's doing the wrong thing.

So, I don't think Porsche being the minor leader will crack their ship. It will just be another thing they have to work through. With the help of friends and family. They'll do their work. They'll learn to trust each other and hopefully, they'll set healthy boundaries between boundaries between relationship and their separate duties.

I also don't think Korn wanted to crack the ship, per se. He wanted Porsche to be loyal to Kinn. He didn’t want Kinn to reciprocate, but Kinn did. And Kinn has proven that he'll be an obedient son as long as his father doesn't try to take Porsche away from him. So, I think Korn has abandoned trying to separate them. He's seen a bunch of problems and solved them all by giving Porsche that ring.

Will Vegas sit back, twiddling his thumbs while being demoted?

No, I do not think he will. The ring is Porsche's. It was given to him by the main family. That's done. Vegas won't fight that.

But, I do think Vegas will do something to establish himself as the "actual" head of the minor family. Maybe hold a few secrets ransom, maybe stay out of a deal that falls through till Vegas shows up.

I don't think Porsche will fight back on it. But if Korn tries to arm twist Vegas, I feel like Vegas will assert himself. In my head, he and Porsche work more like partners at best, than Vegas being a subordinate.

And yeah, the minor family will continue to work with the main family. As Kinn said on the show, they're already sharing profits 50/50. There's hope for working together. And with Porsche between Kinn and Vegas, communication is possible. Harmony is possible.

I also see Pete's presence as a balm of sorts. The havoc that Vegas is capable of causing would not occur, because Vegas is a family man now. And one-thirds of that family has heavy ties to Korn. So he won't go all out. But he will do something.

So... yeah. These are my thoughts on the main/minor family dynamics, post-show.

#kinnporsche #vegaspete

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college-girl199328 · 1 year

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Visitors from China must provide a negative COVID test. Here's why that won't prevent infection in Canada

As China deals with the exploding numbers of COVID-19 cases in the wake of its easing of restrictions, Canada announced it is joining several other countries — including the United States, some European countries, India, and Japan — in imposing mandatory COVID-19 testing for travelers coming from the region. Beginning Thursday, air travelers aged two and older arriving in Canada from China, Hong Kong, or Macau will have to provide evidence of a negative COVID-19 test taken before departure.

The Public Health Agency of Canada (PHAC) says the temporary measure is in response to a surge of COVID cases in China and the limited availability of epidemiological and other data related to it.

Specialists in infectious diseases and global health that CBC News spoke to said the move would do little to prevent the virus from coming to Canada in increased numbers. "I'm not alone in my doubts here that these kinds of travel restrictions will have much of an appreciable impact," said Dr. Matthew Oughton, an infectious diseases physician at Montreal's Jewish General Hospital and associate professor of medicine at McGill University.

"This is closing the barn door after the horse has escaped." "It feels like common sense. It feels like the right thing to do. That doesn't mean it is," said Dr. Kerry Bowman, who teaches bioethics and global health at the University of Toronto.

He says data from China suggests that the cases making up the current outbreak are primarily Omicron and its subvariants. These are all problems Canada has been dealing with for a year.

Until a few weeks ago, China had a strict "zero-COVID" policy. Lockdowns were widespread and restrictive. But in early December, following a series of angry protests amid a faltering economy, China abruptly dropped the strict measures that had kept transmission relatively low.

And while the country did offer its population domestically-manufactured COVID-19 vaccines, they were not the effective mRNA-based vaccines used in many other parts of the world, and published data about their efficacy is also limited. Plus, the uptake was low. In November, the China Daily reported that only about 40 percent of China's population aged 80 and older had received two doses plus a booster. It is hoped that officials will raise this number to 90 percent.

All that led to a sudden surge in infections in China over the past month and international travel restrictions, including from Canada. In an email to CBC News, PHAC said low levels of immunity among China's population and an expected increase in travel due to Chinese New Year in mid-January were also factors in the agency's decision to require the test from China and not other countries which also have high levels of infection.

"I think from a political point of view, most people can feel like at least our government is doing something to protect us," Bowman said. "But it doesn't hold up to evidence-based practice standards." PHAC said it imposed the testing requirement because of "the limited epidemiological and viral genomic sequence data available" about China's cases, something many see as a lack of transparency.

"Not necessarily transparency around absolute numbers," said Zain Chagla, an infectious diseases physician and associate professor at McMaster University. "But transparency about genomic sequencing and what's happening from a virus circulation standpoint." For example, whether a newly discovered variant of concern begins to circulate in China.

Some scientists worry China's outbreak could unleash a new Coronavirus variant on the world. This variant may or may not be similar to the ones circulating since every infection is another chance for the virus to mutate. Late last month, the World Health Organization called on China to provide more detailed information about its evolving COVID situation.

"To make a comprehensive risk assessment of the situation on the ground, World Health Organization needs more detailed information on disease severity, hospital admissions, and requirements for ICU support," WHO director-general Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said at the time.

The lack of detailed data from China alone is a valid reason for other countries to be careful, says Oughton. "When you have this huge population undergoing a major wave of disease, and yet at the same time, you don't know what data to trust, it would be prudent to play things cautiously," he said.

The problem with the approach taken is that any appreciable impact would likely come too late. "By the time that you discover there's a problem, especially with a virus like SARS-CoV-2, where you can be infectious even before your first symptoms, it's not much of a surprise that, say, by the time you've started travel restrictions, you've probably already had lots of people traveling, carrying whatever variant it is that they have," Oughton said.

According to the physicians, an alternative would be to increase wastewater testing in Canada — including testing wastewater from planes.

"It's not meant to give you real-time data, but it will at least be a way of screening for new variants, different variants you haven't seen, which may give you some information as to how to predict what is coming in and what could be happening in the weeks to come," said Oughton. Wastewater testing is currently being done in several communities in Canada, with results taking about one to two weeks, according to PHAC.

As part of its announcement about the updated travel rules for China, the health agency said it would begin a pilot project to test wastewater from planes arriving at Vancouver International Airport and expand the existing wastewater testing project at Toronto's Pearson Airport, to assess how prevalent the disease is around the world and identify any new variants of concern. A worthwhile thing, says Chagla, but with room for improvement in terms of how quickly that data is analyzed and used.

"There's lots and lots of work and lots of resources that could be put into that rather than worrying about what's coming over the border," he said, even if that includes a potential threat of virus mutation.

According to Chagla, what's happening locally - with your neighbor or in your community - poses a much greater risk to you than it does to the average traveler from China. And Bowman says it's pertinent to remember that Canada has limitations in data collection now that widespread testing for COVID-19 has all but ended.

"I'm not saying it's limited on the same scale as China," he said, "but we have our shortcomings as well," Bowman suggests that as the world approaches a fourth year of COVID, a better use of resources would be to address ongoing infrastructure issues.

"What we should be doing is getting safe air — fresh, high quality, filtered and circulating air — in schools, in government buildings," he said, acknowledging that while that would both be expensive and take time, it would serve Canadians well against any infection primarily transmitted through the air, including COVID-19, RSV, and influenza. "How much longer do we need to hold on to before we accept that?" he said. "If we don't do it, we will have to pay the price again."

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audreydoeskaren · 3 years

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Abridged history of early 20th century Chinese womenswear (part 1: 1890s & 1900s) *improved version

Source here

*I’m fixing and reposting the first two posts of this series because back then I had no idea how Tumblr formatting functioned and they deserve better. I’m keeping the shoddy original versions for archival purposes.

*After some thought I think it makes more sense to group the 1890s and 1900s together.

Other posts in the series:

Part 1: 1890s (original)

Part 2: 1900s & 1910s (original)

Part 3.1: 1920s-silhouette

Part 3.2: 1920s-design details

Part 3.3: 1920s-accessories, hair & makeup

Part 4.1: 1930s-silhouette & design

Part 4.2: 1930s-hair, makeup & accessories

Part 5: 1940s

Part 6.1: 1950s-Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan & friends

Part 6.2: 1950s-mainland China

Intro & context

In order to understand early 20th century Chinese fashion we have to go back a bit into the past to have some clue about the context. When the Manchus conquered China and established the Qing Dynasty in the mid 17th century, Han Chinese men adopted Manchu style clothing but Han Chinese womenswear remained independent and separate from Manchu womenswear. Han Chinese women retained the habit of wearing a two piece ensemble as the outermost layer, unlike Manchu women, who wore a single floor length robe. I will be only discussing Han Chinese women’s fashion in this series.

In the 19th century, Han Chinese women wore 袄裙 aoqun, a two piece ensemble consisting of a robe and a skirt. The robe had a very low 立领, standing collar. In the second half of the 19th century, the robe in aoqun had a very generous and roomy cut and huge sleeves, a look which reached its peak in the 1860s and 70s. The hem of the robe hit the knees, the length in vogue since the 1870s. The collar of the robe is very low, only providing enough space for one button, likewise in fashion since the 1870s. The robe is closed with 盘扣 pankou, which in this era were always plain with either a bead or fabric knot tip. The robe closes at the side, usually at the right side at the 大襟 dajin, the side closure, however examples of robes with closures on the left also existed. Robes with closures on both the right and left were also a thing, a style called 双襟 shuangjin, double closure. Shuangjin robes were derived from a men’s riding vest, the 巴图鲁坎肩 batulu vest (batulu is Manchu for “warrior”), that could be opened from both sides, and would experience a revival in the 1920s.

Source here

1870s/80s photograph of a group of women in aoqun, the two skirts on the left are the elaborate mamian style, the one on the right is plain.

In aoqun, the skirt was usually of a style called 马面 mamian, made of two long horizontal pieces of pleated fabric with two flat sections each sewn to a waistband with one flat section overlapping, creating a wrap skirt that once worn around the wearer’s waist, appears to have two unpleated sections, one at the front and one at the back. This skirt was very decorative in the 19th century, full of embroidery, tassels and elaborate trim, sometimes giving the illusion of a separate apron being attached (I’ve seen this weird stereotype that traditional Chinese womenswear has a separate apron at the front this is complete bogus). The robes were likewise heavily decorated around the seams, ceremonial outfits like wedding gowns could be so full of embroidery that the original fabric is hardly to be seen.

The combination of robe and pants, 袄裤 aoku, was also a common way of dressing since approximately the 1800s or 1810s. This combination would become the norm in the 1890s.

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1870s/80s photograph of a woman in a ginormous ao, roomy pants and with bound feet.

Another noteworthy fad was bound feet. The middle of the 19th century was the pinnacle of foot binding and fashionable women had incredibly small feet, dubbed “lotus feet”. This was achieved by wrapping tight foot binding cloth around the feet since childhood and restricting the growth of the feet, I think also breaking a couple bones in the process. Women wore foot binding cloth and baggy stockings underneath their shoes, tied up with garters below the knees. Foot binding is said to severely restrict mobility and cause intense pain; I don’t doubt the pain part but I’m not sure about mobility since I’ve seen plenty of photographs of women with bound feet roaming about the streets.

Not every woman did foot binding though, it depended heavily on region, class and the individual family. For one, Manchu women all had natural feet. For Han women, an account from the 1850s said that in Beijing, every five or six out of ten women did not have bound feet, and that probability is three or four out of ten in the countryside. In the provinces along the southern coast, most women did not bind their feet (this probably has to do with the influence of indigenous cultures in the south, since foot binding was primarily a Han fashion), whereas in the northwest almost every woman had bound feet. By the way, I really don’t like how articles on foot binding describe it in the most sensational way possible, why is it so hard to approach history with peace of mind? And it pisses me off that all the articles containing 1890s photographs only talk about the foot binding as if there is nothing more of value in portraits of whole ass women.

Anyway, if you are interested in learning more about foot binding, check out Cinderella‘s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding by Dorothy Ko, recommended by @thefeastandthefast . Or just anything written by Dorothy Ko tbh.

Silhouette

In the 1890s, the cut of the aoqun began to become more slender and form fitting, commonly believed to be a result of westernization. But I think it’s also because the wide sleeve look has also been in fashion for quite a while now (some 80 years or so) and people were getting tired of it. The robe inherited the knee length hem from the 1880s but was less baggy and took on a more straight cut silhouette. The collar remained quite low until the end of the decade. Pants were overwhelmingly more popular than skirts in the 1890s, I speculate this may be due to a rising interest in feminism and women wanting more mobility, but aoku was also very popular in the 1870s and 80s in general so it may have also just carried over. The pants were still ankle length and straight cut but less roomy than earlier 19th century models. Overall the 1890s just looks like a shrunken and simplified version of the 1880s.

Source here

The aoku as of the 1890s.

By the second half of the 1900s, the collar began to rise, becoming medium height. This was kind of reminiscent of late 18th century Han women’s collars I mentioned in this post on Chinese standing collars. The robe and pants shrunk further, becoming quite tight fitting. The robe was still around knee length. The pants were especially tight and could be considered skinny. Foot binding became less common and many women had natural sized feet. However, since foot binding is something that begins in the childhood, the fact that many women without bound feet appeared in the 1900s meant that many parents started to reject food binding in the 1880s and 90s.

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Ca. 1907 photograph of a group of women, possibly students, in tight fitting aoku.

Design details

The 1890s saw the mass disappearing of wide, embroidered trims around the seams, popular throughout the 19th century. The use of multiple rows of binding/trim from the 1870s and 80s was continued, albeit in a much more minimalistic and geometric way. I’ve seen a lot of plain white ao finished with multiple rows of black binding of different widths, it’s mighty avant-garde and elegant. Because clothes of the era were still constructed in the older Chinese method, they had a seam down the middle of the sleeves used to extend the length of the sleeves; this seam could be bound and decorated but it was not compulsory. Actual embroidery on the robe and skirt/pants was rare, if not non-existent; completely plain fabric was the norm. The ao of this era commonly had a 厂字襟 (厂 shaped closure), where the front placket is held up by one or two buttons and then closed by more buttons down the side seam. This style of closure was first popularized for Han women’s clothing in the 1800s and 1810s, before that Han women’s clothing closures were a straight line from the collar to the armpit. The pankou used to close the ao of this period became a lot more elaborate and the main source of decoration; I have a whole ass post on them here. A general air of simplicity, comfort and proportionality dominated the fashion of this era. In the mid 18th century, Han women’s robes started having folded cuffs (possibly borrowed from Manchu court dress), called 挽袖 wanxiu, and these became fake and represented by a piece of trimming in the 1850s. By the 1890s this design feature largely disappeared, leaving the sleeve edges either plain or simply bound.

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Three women in aoku, late 1890s. I looooove the look on the far left, I will probably make it some day.

Going into the 1900s, the geometric trims became more simplified and austere, while the pankou became increasingly ornamental.

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Late 1900s photograph. The robe is trimmed with fur and thin, geometric binding, and closed by very ornamental pankou.

Hair & Makeup

There were no significant changes in hairstyling in the 1890s, fashionable women would wear existing 1880s hairstyles but style them with bangs. A common style I’ve seen in photographs was long hair pulled back into either one big bun at the back or two smaller ones at the sides. The short bangs were usually very neat, precisely cut and sat closely to the forehead. Elastics did not exist, so Chinese women used strings and hairpins to tie their hair together. Hairpins of this era were usually very thick and sturdy, a single one was enough to hold all your hair into a bun. It was popular to use flowers and/or pearls to form a ring of decorations around a bun.

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Common 1890s hairstyle, for most people the decorations weren’t so elaborate.

A popular headpiece was this thin headband adorned with pearls worn at the place where bangs should be, although that has been around since the 1870s as well.

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Ca. late 1890s. Some women wearing the pearl headband.

Around 1905 the bangs began to grow in length but still weren’t long enough to cover the eyebrows. They were longer at the sides and shorter in the middle, creating this volume and curve at the forehead.

Source here

Photograph ca. 1905. Long bangs.

By the end of the decade these evolved into a being with a will of its own. Long hair tied into braids or low buns became fashionable instead of tight, high buns.

Source here

Calendar painting from 1911.

Fashionable women in the 1890s wore little to no makeup, because of the influence of female university students who were usually without makeup. In the 1870s and 80s, thick makeup was more common and was a trend popularized by sex workers in Shanghai, thus becoming increasingly considered indecent in the 1890s. I find this quite problematic cause respectability politics suck and there’s nothing wrong with wearing fashion trends invented by sex workers. All the straight male writers of the 1890s and 1900s praising female students for being “pure” and ”hygienic” in contrast to the supposedly nasty sex workers make me cringe to my core, it’s just pitting women against each other and setting us up for “I’m not like other girls” in my opinion.

The common makeup look includes white power, lipstick and blush. The lipstick shape was usually a tad smaller to the actual lips and blush was applied in large areas toward the outside of the face.

Source here

Standard 1890s and 1900s hair and makeup look. This drawing is probably from around 1902, it’s a bit more festive folk art than fashion plate so take the patterns with a dash of salt.

Undergarments

Unfortunately I don’t have many pictures for undergarments of the era but I can describe them to you. Since women commonly wore pants, they would usually wear another layer of pants (could be considered drawers) underneath that was of a similar construction but plain and easy to launder. Panties and such didn’t exist so drawers were the innermost layer, enough to protect women’s private parts. Likewise for the robe, another plainer, sturdier version would be worn underneath. In the mid 1900s, as the sleeves of the outer robe began to shorten, the undershirt became more form fitting at the wrists and could serve a decorative function.

Chinese women in the 19th century bound their breasts with long strips of fabric to achieve the flat look. I’m not exactly sure how this is done but basically you wrap fabric tightly around your chest until the boobies are concealed. A famous undergarment of the Qing Dynasty was the 肚兜 dudou, which was actually unisex. The female only version was called 抹胸 moxiong, 袜肚 wadu or 袜腹 wafu, the latter two are etymologically similar to earlier words for “corset” or “a pair of bodies”. However, unlike what many later 20th century artists would like you to believe, wearing only dudou on the upper body was not legit underwear for grown up women, as it was usually worn in conjunction with breast binders as an extra layer of warmth. It was also worn very tightly around the breasts and waist, not tied loosely like in paintings or period dramas nowadays.

Source here

Dudou diagram.

Shoes

Women began campaigning against bound feet in this period and many drawings depicted women with natural feet. However, if a woman had her feet bound since childhood it’s difficult for them to return to their natural size, so some women who were born in previous decades would still have very small feet, even if they began to reject it at this time. Women’s shoes of Western construction weren’t yet so common so most women wore Chinese style shoes, which were commonly made of fabric and had a slightly upward pointing toe. Women with bound feet would use a long piece of ribbon/cloth to wrap their feet (to maintain the shape) and wear small fabric pumps with a white sole. These could be flat or have a teeny tiny bit of wedge heel, called 弓鞋 gong xie, bow shoes. Women without bound feet would wear normal sized pumps, likewise of fabric, with slightly upward pointing toes and a thick white sole. Embroidery on shoes was a huge thing in the 19th century and before but by the 1890s it started to disappear as well, and shoes in the 1890s were commonly plain. In the 1900s, Western leather shoes were increasingly popularized, but it wasn’t until the early 1910s that this popularity reached its height.

Source here

Foot binding cloth.

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Shoes for bound feet.

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Woman with natural feet wearing Chinese style pumps. Western style knit stockings were becoming popularized in the 1880s for women with natural feet as well.

Some editing afterthoughts

I’ve been looking more into 18th and 19th century Chinese fashion lately and I realized I held some deep rooted misconceptions about the Qing Dynasty. For some reason I always considered the 1870s and 80s look with the elaborate, big robes conservative or backwards, which is really not fair. Chinese women’s fashion was revolutionized in the beginning of the 19th century, going from the flowy, slender robes of the 18th century to stiffer, more structured robes with flared sleeves. Styles also differed dramatically from decade to decade, it’s just not very well studied and there’s a stigma around Qing Dynasty fashion so people don’t get into it as much. Because Han women were allowed to continue wearing Han style clothing into the Qing Dynasty, a lot of 18th century reproduction ensembles nowadays get mistakenly labelled as Ming style hanfu, which really isn’t helping... I was definitely not alone in this though, the perception of Qing Dynasty Han women’s fashion most people nowadays have is: in the first couple years Han women were allowed to wear Ming style hanfu, but then bam the late 19th century look was forced upon everyone. This view is super not nuanced and false on almost every level, but it is extremely widespread and I don’t blame you at all if you also think like this, this was me just two months ago too... A wise woman (I mean Karolina Zebrowska) once said that everything in fashion history happens gradually, which is also extremely true for Chinese fashion history.

I’ve really started to question what modernity in fashion means because the elaborate 19th century Chinese look that white people back then considered the epitome of conservative Chinese clothing was actually new and exciting in the beginning of the 19th century. I can’t help but wonder if this view that Chinese clothing as of the 1870s and 80s was symbolic of Chinese culture’s “backwardness” and “stagnation” was a product of colonization and white imperialists’ efforts to demonize Chinese society and take things out of context. I would prefer to say that Chinese fashion westernized a lot during the 1890s and 1900s but not necessarily modernized because what is modernity. Fashions change and that is the most normal thing on the planet.

If you read what white historians or politicians wrote in the late 19th/early 20th century about Chinese fashion or culture (which I highly recommend you don’t, that shit is detrimental to your mental health), it becomes obvious that the majority of them have no clue what Chinese fashion looked like before the 19th century and how we got to what we had in the 19th century in the first place, so they just assumed that Chinese fashion always looked like that and that we haven’t progressed as a culture in hundreds of years lmao. Bullshit pseudo-Darwinism at its finest. Oh or if you look up 18th century European Orientalist paintings depicting imaginary Chinese characters, the clothes they wore and the hairstyles they had were so far off from what actual 18th century Chinese fashion looked like to the point they felt racist and were uncomfortable to look at. I stumbled across so many of them when looking for 18th century Chinese painting and every time I see one it almost gives me a stroke. So I think it’s really important to acknowledge that Han Chinese fashion of the 18th century is a valid field of study.

In my original 1890s post I said that the elaborate embroidery and trimmings started to appear on Han women’s fashion around this time because of Manchu influence, I take that back because I’ve realized it’s a whack claim. I’ll explain it more when I make some posts on the 19th century later.

Reworked part 2 is coming soon as well :)))

#1890s #1900s #19th century #historic fashion #qing dynasty #vintage fashion #vintage hair #vintage shoes #chinese fashion #chinese history #abridged history of early 20th century chinese womenswear #清汉女装 #edwardian fashion

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xiaojusaur · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven

Pairing: Friends to Lovers! Hendery x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Comedy

Warnings: car sex, fingering, squirting, dirty talking, multiple orgasms, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 6K

Description: Hendery was the new guy in class who didn’t know how to talk English well, that’s how you first start talking and then became good friends. You had a crush on him, but he didn’t know. Everything changed at a frat party; you shouldn’t have played 7 minutes in heaven with your friend.

You were accustomed to arrive early to the classroom because there was a certain desk you liked, plus you didn’t like being either too close or too far to the professor. Sometimes you really didn’t feel like paying attention, and today was one of those days.

On the way, you met with your best friend, but you couldn’t enroll in the same classes this semester, so she had to leave quickly.

When you got to the classroom, there was a new face and he was sitting on your favorite place. The shock froze you in place, he hadn’t noticed you were there as he was writing something down on his notebook and his dark mane was covering his face.

You decided to be nice and just sit on the desk on his left. When he was aware of your presence, he turned his head to you, your eyes meeting when you raised your glance. You smiled and he smiled back. He was cute. You both kept quiet until the rest of the classmates and the professor arrived.

“Class! We have a new student with us! Hendery, please say hello!” Your professor introduced the new guy to your right. He waved shyly. “Please be patient with him, he doesn’t know much English. He came all the way from Macau. If you guys see him struggling, please give him a hand,” your professor continued.

So that’s why he was so silent! He seemed so nice and you having a lot of empathy, could feel he was feeling anxious. It must’ve been hard not being able to communicate well.

The class continued and you were distracted with the fact that maybe Hendery couldn’t understand well what was being discussed. He looked so focused, you didn’t dare to interrupt him because maybe he was trying to do his best. So you waited for the class to be over and when he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute!” You whisper-shouted.

He turned around and his face seemed to light up.

“Are you okay? Did you understand the class?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I tried my best,” he shrugged and then giggled.

You giggled with him and then said, “If you ever need help to understand something, just ask me, okay?”

“Alright! Thank you!” He seemed genuinely happy that you were willing to help him.

“Do you know anyone around?” you didn’t want him to be alone.

“Yeah, I have a friend. I will meet him now to get lunch,” he explained.

“That’s good!” You nodded.

“Do you want to join us?” He asked you.

“That’s alright! I’ll meet with my best friend too,” you answered.

“Oh okay, see you later then,” he was about to leave when he remembered he didn’t know your name. “Oh! Wait! What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you smiled to him one last time before he nodded and left.

The months went on like that. Hendery occasionally came for help, he liked teaming up with your for group projects, and he even invited you to lunch a few times. You liked spending time together and slowly, he merged into your group of friends, bringing his group of friends also.

His English got better and better, he was almost and expert, even though he had a cute accent.

You found yourself having a huge crush on him, but you swore you would never tell him. For you, he was way out of your league, you weren’t his type, and you didn’t even know about his language, though he had tried several times to teach you some words and expressions.

“Hey!” He arrived to your apartment without notice to find you curled up in your sofa watching a movie.

“Hi! What’s up?” You said while checking your phone to see if he had texted you, finding an empty screen.

“So, tonight’s there’s this frat party from the frat house Yangyang is in, do you maybe wanna go?” He then smiled widely, trying to convince you.

“I don’t know... I’m not in the mood for partying today,” you replied while cuddling the cushion.

“Come onnn!” He flopped by your side on the couch, “Lyndsey is gonna be there! She’s gonna stalk me the whole night!” He groaned.

“Well, that’s your own fault! You dicked her down and she got addicted,” you shrugged, laughing at him later.

“Hey! I was in need!” He explained unnecessarily.

“You guys can’t last a week without pussy, that’s sad, you know,” you were mocking him.

“It’s in our nature, what can we do? Plus, how long has it been since you got laid?” He was smirking, trying to make fun of you.

“Shut up,” you pushed him playfully.

“So come on!!!! Let’s go to the frat party!” He started shaking you by the arm.

“Alright! Alright! Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You jumped to your feet and went to your room to change, your quick choice being a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, a bomber college jacket, and some sneakers. You texted your best friend.

Hey! Are you going to that frat party?

Idk... are you?

Dery is making me go. Something about Lyndsey and stuff

Sucks. I can accompany you

Please! It’s possible he finds someone else and leaves me alone there surrounded by strangers

Fine, I’ll throw something on and see you there.

You got out of your room and Hendery was there, laying back on the couch while watching the TV. He looked so cute. You couldn’t believe you had a crush on him and he hadn’t noticed.

“We’re ready to go,” you announced and he looked at you from head to toe and back up. He catcalled you as a joke, “Look at my bestie gooo! She’s gonna seduce some men!”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Fine, let’s go!”

At the party, you met with your best friend while Hendery went with his friends. Everyone was wilding, playing beer pong, dancing, drinking, making out on the corners.

You stayed by your friend’s side, dancing and drinking. Hendery found you in the crowd and started dancing with you too, after all, you were that comfortable with each other. He grabbed your hips and was grinding on you while you followed his hips. When the song finished he said he was gonna get more alcohol while you ran to your best friend again.

“Are you not gonna tell him ever?” She asked you, talking about your huge crush in Hendery.

“I don’t think I will. I mean, we’re okay as we are,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lose his friendship and you thought that if you told him, everything would turn awkward, so you just decided to keep it to yourself.

As the night went by, people started to get sleepy, some passing out on the couches, others disappeared who knows where. Only a few were still alive and among them were Hendery, your friend, the infamous Lyndsey, and you. Someone had the bright idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven just for the sake of relieving high school memories, so you all sat on the floor in circle. Some random guy looked for an empty bottle that would choose the lucky couples. You were sitting across Hendery, who looked spaced out, probably drunk already and being stalked by Lyndsey. The poor girl’s eyes were shining with high hopes of getting a chance to be alone with Dery again. You were mocking him and he was acting annoyed.

As the game progressed, many random couples got to be locked in the darkness of the closet. Your friend matched with the very hot Jaehyun guy from English class but she didn’t spill anything. While you were teasing her, you heard Hendery’s name along with some noise by his friends. You were about to start mocking him too when you noticed the bottle was pointing at you.

You swear your surroundings froze in time. Your friend’s eyes widened because she knew how you felt. Hendery tho, was excited because after all, it was you and he wouldn’t feel so awkward.

“Aren’t you going?” Said the guy who had the control of spinning the bottle, Lyndsey looked at you and then to Hendery, expecting you to not go. Hendery actually helped you to stand up and basically dragged you into the closet with him. Before locking the door, the guy with the timer said, “Whatever you do, you have 7 minutes. Nothing more,” and with that, he left you two alone in the darkness of the closet.

You were holding into Hendery’s arms, maybe to know he was there, maybe as a support, or perhaps because you wanted to feel him close.

“Well, at least I’m saved from Lyndsey,” he laughed nervously.

“Yup, once again, I am your savior,” you remarked.

Being alone with Hendery wasn’t awkward usually, but there was some weird tension going on in the tiny space of the closet.

“What should we do?” He asked in a whisper, the air emitting from his lips blowing you right on the face because he was too close.

“I don’t know... talk? We’re friends, this isn’t weird,” you tried to convince yourself.

“I mean... yeah...”

“These had been the longest seven minutes of my life,” you stated.

“Let’s kiss, maybe that would make it less awkward and the time will go faster,” Hendery suggested and you swear the butterflies in your stomach made a tornado.

“You think kissing between friends is less awkward?” You asked confused.

“Well yeah, I mean, we’re friends. It shouldn’t be weird, it’s only a kiss,” he said, ignorant of your feelings for him.

“Okay then,” you agreed, “but let’s not allow this to make us awkward after, alright?”

“Promise,” he gave you his pinky to hook with yours.

In less than a second, his lips crashed on yours. You thought it was just gonna be a peck, but then he started moving his lips, and automatically, yours responded. His tongue darted between your lips, looking for yours to tangle with. Your arms snaked around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist, bringing you even more closer. Having him like this sparked the feeling inside you more: you were in love with this guy without remedy.

When you two were getting comfortable with it, you heard the alarm outside, indicating time was up. You detangled from each other, fixing your hair and your clothes to make it seem that nothing had happened. Everyone knew you two were best friends and to give the tiniest hint that you had done anything in there would be enough for your group of friends to start teasing you. When the door opened, you went on with your normal friendship and acted as if you haven’t kissed passionately a few minutes ago.

You were too overwhelmed, so you decided to leave with your friend. Hendery stayed. He was probably gonna crash in with the boys.

On the way back, your friend was telling you about her experience with Jaehyun, and then she remembered your time with Hendery.

“Did anything happen in there? You two looked pretty normal to me,” she inquired.

“Well... we kissed,” you shrugged.

“I knew it -wait what?!” She was shocked! “You kissed? As in a peck or-?”

“As in full tongue,” you nodded.

“Oh my God...... how do you feel?” She was concerned now.

“Like I’m in love... I feel like as soon as his lips touched mine, I was done, I completely fell in love with him,” you confessed.

“Oh no.... what you gonna do now?” She asked.

“Try to not be awkward and act as if it was nothing. Friends can kiss right?” You fake-smiled.

“No they cannot! Friends with benefits do... but I don’t think you’re there yet,” she scratched her neck.

“I’m fucked aren’t I?”

“Very...”

You tried avoiding Hendery until you felt better and collected your thoughts, but that was kinda impossible since he was everywhere and he looked for you everyday. So you did your best to not looked like you were having a turmoil of feelings every time you saw his stupid, beautiful face.

There you were, having lunch all together. He was talking about how he wanted to talk to a cute girl who was a few tables away. Your friend placed her hand on top of yours in silent support.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was up with you. He usually talked to you about his affairs with other females and you weren’t this affected, but today you were bothered by it. While his friends celebrated that he was going to get her number, you stood up and left with the excuse of having to study because of a test. Your friend followed you.

“I think you need to talk to him,” she suggested.

“I don’t know. I feel is going to be useless,” you grunted.

“Y/N, it has gotten to a point where you’re always fuming. He will start noticing your behavior soon if you keep this up, so my advice is that you two sit down and talk this out,” she stepped in front of you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! He doesn’t feel the same way I do. I’m the one trying to ruin our friendship,” you said as you threw your hands in the air in frustration.

“First of all, you don’t know that. Second of all, if you keep bottling it, you’re gonna explode and it’s going to be worse. And that’s not ruining a friendship, it’s only natural you like him. You spend time together, he knows you well, he brings you snacks...” Your friend was trying to talk reason back to you.

You whined, “But how am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just sit him down and tell him, ‘Listen, I have this huge crush on you, please love me back’, he’s a guy, he won’t understand.”

“Well, if he feels the same way he WILL understand,” she said matter-of-factly.

“That isn’t helping! Ughhh! I need to plan something... something that looks casual but it’s the right moment, you know what I mean?”

“How about... how about you invite him to watch a movie? That’s something you guys do often, right?” She suggested and you nodded. “You watch a movie, you have your snacks, you cuddle as you always do, and then you tell him. What do you think?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you laughed.

You gasped, “How do you know we cuddle? Are you spying on me?!”

“Come on, let’s be realistic. You two look like cuddly people,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah true... your plan sounds good. Imma try it. You’re the best! I don’t know how my life would be without you,” you embraced your friend in gratitude.

At night, you texted Hendery to start with your plan:

Hey, dumbhead

Sup, headache

Do you have plans on Friday night?

Not yet, 为什么？(weishenme - Why)

Why are you texting me in Chinese?! You know I don’t understand! I mean, I’m deducing that means why.

🤪🤪🤪

Anyways! What do you think if we watch that new movie on Netflix?

Sure, I’ll bring snacks

Kay

好！

Now that you had everything planned, you started thinking about what to say and how to say it. You couldn’t just shoot it.

A few hours later, when you were about to go to sleep, you received another text from Hendery. It said it had an image attached. It was strange but you decided to open it. And then regretted it.

Hendery had sent you a spicy picture. It wasn’t a nude but it was pretty suggestive. He was holding his member over his pants, as if to show how big he is without actually showing. Almost a dick pic.

You panicked, you were sure that wasn’t for you. A sudden jealousy took over you because, why was he sending these pics to someone else? But also, your friend-self told you to keep calm and let him know.

Wrong number! Dumbass! Look at the number before sending these kind of things!

He didn’t answer for a while, but then he appeared

I’m sorry!!! Oh God! I’m so embarrassed!

It’s all good. At least you’re not showing anything. My eyes aren’t bleeding yet!

I’m really sorry!

It’s okay! We’re friends...

And you left him with that.

Friday arrived and you were nervous already, waiting for Hendery in your apartment. Around 8PM he knocked on your door and you yelled “Come in!” Too lazy to get up from the couch. He looked comfy but so sexy at the same time.

Hendery brought a lot of snacks and placed them on the low table.

“I brought your favorites and mines, to fix your day!” He said excitedly.

You smiled and replied, “Thanks! I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s get to it!” He yelled and you shushed him laughing, he was so noisy and your neighbors would complain.

You were cuddled up with each other while watching the movie. You were leaning on his chest while he played with your hair with one hand and ate popcorn with the other. You felt his eyes on you, so you looked up and your eyes met. He smiled to you and you smiled back. You didn’t know if it was your imagination but you felt he was getting closer to your mouth. In your panic you didn’t move and opted to let it happen, maybe this was a sign that he liked you back. But then, his lips never touched yours and only centimeters away he said, “Haha, gotcha,” with a groggy voice.

You got angry and couldn’t conceal it anymore. So you got off the couch as quickly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” He asked confused.

The ticking bomb inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong?! You dare to ask me what’s wrong?! Hendery! You just pretended you were going to kiss me and then told me it was a joke!”

“Hey! Calm down! I thought it would be funny! Since you know, we kissed in the game as a joke” His eyes widening in concern.

“So the kiss was a joke to you?” You said crossing your arms tightly.

“I thought it was just a game, it didn’t mean anything,” he explained.

“It did to me!” You blurted, your mouth talking before you could think straight.

He froze and gulped, “What?”

“Nothing,” you turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” He walked behind you, “talk to me! You’re acting really strange lately. You’ve been avoiding me, you get angry about everything... what is wrong? What changed?”

You leaned on the counter, trying to find the correct words. “What changed is...” you gulped and then continued, “My feelings for you, Hendery. That changed.”

He was so puzzled. “I don’t understand...”

“Hendery, I’m in love with you,” you confessed, feeling a relief within you.

You looked at him, his eyes were alarmed, not quite the reaction you were expecting. “I- I- I don’t know what to say...” he stuttered.

“You don’t have to say anything, Hendery...” you muttered.

“I- I’ll be right back...” he walked slowly to the door and left without his things. He didn’t come back.

“Great Y/N, great! You just ruined your friendship,” you said to yourself, running your hands through your hair.

You cleaned your apartment and curled up in your bed, regretting everything you just did.

You two didn’t talk for a week straight, not daring to approach each other. Hendery went to Xiaojun for help because he felt he was losing you and he didn’t want that, but he felt bad for leaving you hanging that night. You were expecting an answer from him, but at that time, he didn’t think you were going to say what you said.

“This is simple, Hendery,” said Xiaojun while cooking something. “How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t know!!!” He whined, pulling his long strands of hair.

“I think you do know, you just don’t want to accept it,” Xiaojun chuckled. “You can be honest with me, you know.”

“Ughhh! Okay,” Hendery groaned. “I think I’m pretty accustomed to her as my best friend that I didn’t think I could actually like her. But now thinking about it well, I feel like my best self when I’m around her. I can be myself and she won’t judge me, she follows my weird behavior, she shares snacks with me...”

“Let me change the question a little bit,” Xiaojun interrupted, “the day of the party, how did you feel when you kissed?”

After thinking about it a little, Hendery answered, “I wanted to keep kissing her. I felt so comfortable in her arms. She’s a great kisser btw,” he drifted away.

“Focus!” Xiaojun yelled.

“Okay, okay! I don’t know, I feel like I would be able to tell if I see her again... but I don’t know how to go back to her,” he sighed.

“How about you do a non-date date, something simple like going for a late night drive,” Xiaojun suggested.

“You’re a genius!” Hendery exclaimed.

“I’m a romantic, which is different,” he pointed out.

It was 12AM on a Friday and you we’re already cuddled in your bed when there was a knock on your door. You threw a hoodie on, to not wear a bra just in case, and went to see who was it.

You felt like the air was punched out of you when you opened the door and saw Hendery’s figure. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a cream-colored shirt, black joggers, and his glasses: the best look on him. “Hendery...” you said softly.

“Um... hi!” He smiled awkwardly, making him look so cute to you. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked this whole week and I didn’t have the best response to what you said and I’m sorry about that,” he was talking too fast.

“Hey... it’s okay,” you patted him on the arm. “You want to come in?”

“Actually, I came here for you. Do you want to go for a late night drive?” He was swinging, looking pretty nervous.

You sighed, “Do I have to change?”

“Not really, I mean, look at me,” he extended his arms and turned around. You giggled.

“Fine, let me get my shoes,” you ran to your room and put on the first sneakers you found and you both got in his car.

He was just driving around town, both of you being the old friends you were, singing loudly to the songs on the radio, laughing out loud, and watching the neon lights of the places that were open. He got down on a station to buy snacks for both and then kept going.

You ended up on a lonely hill with a view to the city lights. Sitting on the front of his car, you listened to Hendery talked about his life in Macau and what he missed. Then you were playing, trying to guess where were the places among the tiny lights at sight. Like magnets, you cuddled against each other without noticing; the night was getting cold after all. In the chit-chat, the clock marked 3AM. You got in the car again but Hendery didn’t started the car, instead he talked.

“Y/N... I’ve been thinking about what you told me.” There was a long silence between you two, so he continued, “I like the version of me when I’m with you. It’s so easy to not think about what to do or what to say, I can just speak my mind. I really appreciate you.”

“Same here, Dery,” you placed your hand on top of his, which was on his thigh.

“Im sorry for making you feel bad. I really didn’t think straight, I was in utter shock,” he apologized.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have said that the way I did,” you accepted.

“So no hard feelings?” He asked, looking at you now.

“No hard feelings,” you smiled.

But then the air changed between you two. A force was drawing you together and neither of you stopped it. Your lips touched, sparking the flame inside you again. And like that, Hendery knew he loved you too, because the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t stop dancing. His hand traveled to the back of your head, holding you softly. He pulled back first, mumbling, “I’m sorry, is this okay?”

“Only if it’s okay with you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he muttered before kissing you again, this time deepening the kiss. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. It turned to a passionate make out session and you were gasping for air. You smiled because you were kissing your best friend and Hendery smiled because you looked so cute.

“Should we take this to the backseat?” He suggested with a groggy voice.

“Here? Right now? Really?” You joked.

“I’m sorry! I’m desperate for you,” he shrugged. He jumped first, to lean the seat back for more space. Conveniently he had some sheets there. Then he beckoned you with his hands, inviting you to jump with him. You did as told but your foot got stuck on the front seat so you landed flat over him. You both started laughing at your disgrace but then started kissing wildly again.

He rolled over so you were under him. He fitted perfectly between your legs, as if you were made for him. Quickly, clothes started to be bothersome and he took off your hoodie. Then, Hendery’s hands ran underneath your shirt, reaching your breasts. He squeezed them and then started playing with your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Soon enough, he asked you, “Can I take this off?” Pulling your shirt. You simply responded, “Please.” He also took off his, revealing his beautiful body and threw both of your shirts to the front seat. One of his hands ran down your body, feeling all of you while he enjoyed your lips. You sighed in satisfaction, feeling yourself getting wetter with every touch and each kiss.

Hendery knew when to start touching you and he asked for your consent, “Can I touch you?”

“Please Dery, I’m so wet already,” you said in a needy whisper.

He groaned in response, his fingers not loosing time in snaking inside your shorts. First he touched you over your underwear and then he slipped inside your panties, finding your clit easily. “Oh my god,” you said in a breathy murmur.

“Fuck... you’re so wet,” he hissed. He took out his hand to pull down your pants and underwear, all in one go, helping you shimmy out of them. After all, none of this was being awkward between you, you felt comfortable with each other. Once he had you all at his mercy, he kissed your neck, his mouth going down and down while his hand went to your south. His lips enclosed your nipple at the same time his fingers got between your folds. God! He was so skilled! Your hand played with his hair while his did unholy thing to you.

He sticked his middle finger in you, going in and out, then he added his ring finger and started moving them fast and deep inside, making you whine. “Fuuuuck! Dery! Feels so good!”

He let go of your nipple with a pop, “You like my fingers, baby? Yeah?” His voice was lower than usual and breathier, it had your head spinning.

“Ooh! Yeah, I love them,” you cried and kissed him. You could hear the squelching sound coming from between your legs. You couldn’t believe Hendery was the one making a mess of you.

You felt your orgasm bubbling inside you, “Hendery I’m gonna cum,” you said in a high-pitched whimper.

“You wanna cum on my fingers? Do you like them that much?” He panted.

“Mmmm! Yes!” You moaned.

“Come on, baby, let go,” he commanded you and started thrusting his fingers faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said in a shattered chant and then you felt the delicious tingles all over your body, your eyes rolled back, and your back arched. Something unusual happened this time: strands of water gushed out of you and your legs started to shake. You cried loudly loosing all control of your body. Hendery was amazed of what he just did, “Shit! So hot!”

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed. “Oh god... I’m so sorry...” you hid on the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, that was so hot! I’ve never achieved that. Did you know you could do that?” He caressed your hair in assurance.

“No... it’s the first time that happens...” you whined in embarrassment.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he chuckled, “wanna know something? I’m harder now.”

“Deryyy!” You gasped.

“Can you take it?” He hummed.

“I can take all of you,” you smirked.

“So naughty, I like it,” he pecked your lips and proceeded to kneel in front of you, all bended to avoid smashing his head with the hood. He slipped his pants off easily, along with his briefs, his hardened cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight, the tip so pink, shinning with wetness, all ready to take you.

You opened your legs, inviting him, you couldn’t wait for him to be inside you.

He hissed when seeing your still wet core, “Fuck, I could’ve beat that long time ago,” to which you laughed. “Well, you decided to keep boundaries.”

“You’re my best friend, wasn’t it going to be weird?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I’m a man, you know. I’m weak. Do you think I didn’t wish to rearrange your insides some of those nights where we cuddled in your couch? It took the best of me to calm this little guy,” he grabbed his length. You burst out laughing.

“Are we really having this conversation when you’re about to wreck me?” You rolled your eyes.

“You started it!” He complaint.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” you taunted.

“Condom or no condom?” He asked.

“Wrap your weiner, I don’t know where you have sticked that thing in,” you commanded him.

“I’m clean! I always protect myself, who do you take me for?! I offered myself since I trust you as my best friend, but okay. And don’t call him a thing! He has a name!” he sounded so offended.

“Oh my god! Don’t take it personal! Maybe in the future I’ll let you fuck me raw,” you winked, “but for now, let’s do it this way.”

“Alright,” he said as he looked for his wallet in the pocket of the pants he just discarded. Finding the tiny foil square was fast and he was even faster rolling it down his shaft.

“Come here,” he pulled you closer by your legs, making you laugh. This whole adventure had been a fun ride for both of you.

He kissed you passionately again, one of his hands ran to your leg, bending it a little to have better access to your entrance. He then hold his length, rubbing the tip up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you bite your lip. You were shaking in anticipation.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you moaning. “Mmm, 操! (cào - Fuck), you’re so tight for me, baby,” his said in a shaky whisper.

He went as deep as he could, making you feel so full. “Hendery,” you breathed, “I feel so full.”

“Yes baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he assured you in hoarse groan.

He kept thrusting you slowly, passionately, enjoying every inch of you. The car was full of shaky breaths, low moans, occasional grunts, and the sound of kisses. Never in your life you thought you would share such an intimate moment with Hendery, but you were loving every second of it.

“Can I go faster?” He asked softly.

“Yes please,” you pleaded.

Hendery caged you in his arms and started snapping his hips faster. His lips whispered filthy praises in your ear, adding up to your want for him, “So good, your cunt feels so warm baby, wanna fill you up with my cum. Do you want that? Yeah? Mmmm... Making love to you feels so nice. I love you, I love you, I love you. This is the only pussy I wanna fuck for the rest of my life.”

Your hands hugged him back, running all his back, tangling in his hair, he had you crazy for him with every word. If you weren’t out of breath, you replied to his words with moans and mewls. “Mmmf! Hendery! Fuck! I love you so fucking much! Please keep fucking me, it feels so good!”

A few minutes later he panted, “I’m gonna cum.” He tried to go faster and he drove his hand south, finding your bundle of nerves skillfully. He was drawing circles while pummeling into you fast, making your second orgasm arrive with force, tightening around him. A sharp scream left your throat and you hugged him tightly. Hendery came with a guttural growl, “Ughhh! So good!” You could feel him pumping in you while he filled the condom.

When you both could breathe again, he embraced you and peppered you with kisses, making you giggle. “How are you feeling, my love?” He smiled.

“I like the sound of that coming from your lips,” you cuddled with him. He sighed, satisfied with the thought that you were his and he was yours.

“Then I will call you that all day just to see you happy,” he kissed you on the forehead.

“You’re my happiness,” you purred.

“I love you, I really do,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Dery,” you raised your head to kiss his lips.

“Do I need to pop the question or are we clear?” He joked.

“Imma torture you and make it pop it,” you chuckled beaten.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked confidently.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

After a moment of silence, Hendery suggested, “Up for round two?”

“Oh my god, you’ll be the death of me if your sex drive is this high,” you sighed.

“My sex drive with you will always be high. Imagine having to hide your boner for so many years and then finally getting the pussy of your dreams?” He was such a character.

“Stop!! That is not true” you shoved him with your elbow.

“Not true?! Do you wanna know how many times I masturbated after arriving home from our movie nights?!” He could be brutally honest sometimes.

“You masturbate?” You wanted to see him snap.

“Listen, Y/N, if I didn’t, my dick would’ve fallen off by now because holy fuck! I wanted to rail you so bad!”

You just exploded in laughs. He really was the man you loved.

“How many rounds can you make?” You asked him.

“I have a whole box of condoms to use with you. You decide,” he shrugged.

“So that’s 3?” You jeered.

“Very funny,” he said sarcastically.

The car kept rocking, the windows were fogged and Hendery almost could last till dawn making love to you. The rest of the night became an orgasm feast for you two.

You fell asleep, beaten thanks to the activities. When you woke up, the sky was painted in pastel colors, announcing dawn. You were wrapped under the sheets, naked with Hendery, on the back of his car.

You looked at him, he looked so cute sleeping soundlessly, you didn’t want to wake him up, but the sun was about to rise and you were away from the city.

“Baby,” you whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, as if asking what was wrong.

“Baby, I’m cold and the sun is rising,” you explained.

“Mmm... really?” His sleepy voice was making your head spin.

“Yes my love, we should go home. We can continue sleeping at my apartment if you want,” you suggested.

He yawned, “but then I’ll have to make love to you again because I want to be like this with you.”

You giggled, he was so cute talking while sleepy. You kissed his cheek. “We can just get naked and sleep.”

“It’s not the same,” he groaned. Hendery sat and stretched, then, he passed you your clothes.

You guys bought breakfast on the way home, you ate it and then went back to sleep. You spent the majority of the day in bed watching series, glad that you belonged to each other now.

#neosmutcollective #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #fanfic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv smut #wayv #wayv scenarios #hendery #hendery wayv #hendery smut #huang guanheng #nct fluff #wayv fluff #friends to lovers

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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

The One That Got Away -- Part 2

Part 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Dave York x F Reader

Words: 3495

Rating: E 18+!

Warnings: Dave York, violence, guns, masturbation, fingering, choking, shoe kink, slapping, spanking, unprotected p in v sex

Summary: Five years ago, before you cut and run, you had one last job with Dave. And one final name on your list.

a/n: I had no plans of expanding on this (Part 1 was written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday picture prompt) but once again, this took a life of its own. Thanks as always @pascalslittlebrat for giving this the green light!

MACAU, 5 YEARS AGO

There were three things you knew.

First, the target was some Eastern European oligarch named Stanislav. He liked women so Dave had tapped you for this gig. You would deal with the target up close and personal.

Second, Stanislav knew he had a lot of enemies so he brought a lot of friends with him. No matter where he went, there were armed guards, staff, friends who were also rich or powerful or corrupt. It was likely you would have to deal with some of them too.

Third, after you’d killed Stanislav, gotten past his posse, out of the casino, and back to the safe house, Dave was going to make you cum at least four times.

You and Dave had a good thing going. He was meticulous and thorough in his work but you discovered that wasn’t where those qualities ended.

He’d looked you up and down before you arrived at the penthouse suite where Stanislav was hosting some party. You were wearing something that hugged your curves and a wig, high heels and make up. You knew Dave would allow himself exactly two minutes to think about what he’d do to you when this was all over, all the ways he’d have you, and then he’d switch his mind off to focus on the mission at hand.

Between your outfit and the observant security detail, it had been decided that it would be wise to go in unarmed. Less of a chance od tipping anyone off before the two of you got through the door.

You split from Dave as soon as you got in and it didn’t take you long to get to chatting with Stanislav. Your fingertips touched his wrist, you bit down on your bottom lip, you let him whisper into your ear. Dave kept an eye on the situation from across the room.

It wasn’t difficult to slip the drugs into your target’s glass. And it didn’t take much convincing to get him to invite you to a more private place once he’d drunk it down. In less than five minutes, he’d be dead. Until then, you’d let him paw at you. What a way to go.

Right on schedule, Stanislav was gasping, terror in his eyes, clutching at his chest. He sunk to his knees, grasping at the air, pulling at his collar. His hand slid inside his shirt and you saw him yanking on the chain around his neck. Shit. He was wearing a panic button. Of course he was.

Your heart started pounding. Within seconds one of his goons was bursting in, gun drawn.

“Something’s wrong with him!” you cried, covering your mouth with your hand.

He rushed to Stanislav’s side. You took off your shoe, gripped it around the middle, and thrust the heel into the body guard’s eye with force, twisting his wrist with your other hand. He cried out and you came again with the shank of your pump over and over until he dropped his weapon, his face a mess of blood. Poor bastard. You used his gun to put a bullet in him just as one of his friends was charging in.

His weapon was pointed right at you and you whipped around to fire but he jerked forward and fell to the floor. Dave was behind him with a gun he must have lifted off of another unfortunate guard, his eyes looking wild. You wiped your bloody shoe on the dead guard’s coat and slid it back onto your foot.

“Thanks,” you managed as you skirted past Dave.

You had enough knowledge of the suite to get to the exit before more of Stanislav’s men arrived. Dave was right behind you as you went into the hall, both trying to keep your pace casual. As soon as you hit the stairwell you pulled off the wig and shook out your hair. Dave put his jacket over your shoulders and rolled up his sleeves. He had a pair of glasses in his pocket. These weren’t the best disguises but they didn’t have to get you far. You ditched the wig in a trash can once you’d gone down a few floors, out to the landing, and then caught the elevator.

As you snaked your way through the casino floor, you tucked your face into Dave’s neck, doing your best drunk girl wobble. His arm curved around your back, guiding you towards the exit. And soon you were home free.

Now that your work was done, all that was left was your adrenaline. You were ready to let it out and you knew Dave was too because this had become your little routine.

The first time it had happened, you had barely finished a job. Dave cornered you in the elevator, your heart still racing, gun still clutched in your fingers. He’d nudged his knee between your legs and pressed his mouth against yours. You knew he was married but you didn’t stop him. You’d wanted him the same way he’d wanted you. And you’d just killed five people. That kind of made things like fidelity and sisterhood seem unimportant.

By now, though, things were slow and careful, controlled. You and Dave weren’t pouncing on each other but he would nod his head for you to follow him to his bed once you were back at the safe house.

“Take that dress off for me, baby,” he said. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs open so you could stand between them. You turned around allowing him to unzip you and you stepped out of your dress.

“You can leave those on,” he said when you went to kick off your heels. You grinned.

Dave’s dark eyes took you in and he ran his fingertips under the strap of your bra to loose it from your shoulder. He repeated the motion on the other side, his hand barely grazing your skin. It gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him but you liked it when he unwrapped you like a present.

“Take off your shirt,” you told him, running a finger along his chin.

You liked it when the corner of his mouth twitched into a wicked smile.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. You bit down on your lip. He took his time unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his skin. He was in good shape considering his age but you liked the soft edges around his body.

Dave pulled you in to nuzzle at your breasts as he unhooked your bra and you slid your palms over his broad, smooth shoulders. He rolled one of your hard nipples between his teeth and you moaned.

“That’s what I want to hear,” he growled.

He spun you around, tracing his hand around the curve of your ass down between your legs. You were already so wet that he could feel it through your panties. Dave peeled them down your hips and then sat you in front of him between his legs. He held you against his chest, one hand pushing your thighs apart so he could stroke you. You could already feel yourself pulsing as you swooned under his touch.

You heard him undo his belt with his other hand and he held his palm open in front of your lips. “Spit,” he demanded.

You could feel him behind you pulling at himself with his wet hand in time as he touched you. Dave rubbed you gently, teasing at the spot that you liked the best. He knew that it made you lose your mind, slow and careful winding you up like a toy.

“I can’t wait to get into this pussy,” he breathed into your ear.

When you bucked against him, he let go of himself and put his hand around your throat, sticky with spit and precum. Dave gripped tight. You trusted him and you had signals in case he got too rough but, as much as you enjoyed his careful touch, you liked it when things went a little too far. There was something that thrilled you as Dave squeezed and your vision went hazy. You knew he was capable of going all the way, and not in a theoretical sense. He’d killed people with his hands around their throat.

“That’s right,” he rasped and as you hit your high he let go and you gasped and shook against him.

He continued to swirl his fingers over you until you were writhing and you wrenched his wrist away.

“I think you can do that again,” Dave said.

He slid his palm over your wet lips, the heel of his hand rocking over your already overwhelmed clit. You moaned when his middle finger went inside of you.

He worked at you like this, heat twisting once again in your belly. Dave was holding you close, his weeping cock pressed against the small of your back. His thick finger seemed to double the sensation between your legs.

This time when you came, Dave bit at your neck, grunting. Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Turn around,” he instructed.

“Can’t I get a minute to catch my breath?” you complained, still drunk on the bliss spreading over your body.

He set you on your feet and you turned, finally able to admire his ripe length. You set your foot on the bed between his legs. You’d noticed a while back that Dave had a thing for heels. So much so that you started packing them in your bag even when the job required something more practical.

Dave traced his hand down your shin and slid them over your shoe, his fingers still slick with you. As he smudged your arousal onto the leather he let out a hum and you saw his cock twitch. You moved closer, the toe of your pump just barely grazing his shaft from base to tip. There were still hints of dried blood on the heel which somehow disgusted and aroused you at the same time. Dave’s eyes drifted shut.

There was something else Dave liked but wouldn’t admit to. With an open palm, you slapped him across the face. His eyes shot open, shaken from his reverie. He snatched your wrist, tight, his gaze darkening from desire to danger.

“You’re gonna fucking get it,” he said with a sinister smirk.

He wrestled you face down onto the bed and then clamped your ankle in his hand, sliding you across the sheets until your lower body hung over the side.

“I make you cum and that’s the thanks I get?”

His hand connected with your ass. You knew it was coming but still you cried out.

“Quiet,” he demanded.

He pulled you up by your hair, the sting delicious, and put his fingers in your mouth until you were practically gagging. You loved getting Dave riled up like this.

You weren’t so introspective that you thought about why you and Dave treated each other this way. You were sure he didn’t slap his wife around in the bedroom and you would kill any man that did half of the shit that made you wet for dave. Was it some kind of penance? You both knew you didn’t deserve soft and sensual. It might have just been that your senses were completely dulled. After years on the job, it took an awful lot to make you feel anything. Or possibly it was just the release. How else were you supposed to forget about the things you’d done?

Dave pushed into you and you arched your back. He grabbed your hips hard enough that you knew you’d have bruises where his fingers dug in but he stayed motionless within you.

“Lay still,” he said when you wiggled your hips around him earning you another slap on the ass.

It was torment, his thick cock sheathed in you when you wanted more. You wanted him to drive you out of your senses. Suddenly, Dave pulled back and then snapped his hips against you. He thrust into you relentlessly. The wet noises that came between the two of you were making you feral.

You felt the tension pool again moaning as his hands travelled up to massage your breast and then wrap around your shoulders for leverage so you were feeling every inch of him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he grunted.

You felt like you were already close to hitting another peak.

“Say it,” Dave demanded.

That made you fall apart and you buried your face in the mattress to muffle your moans.

“You liked that, huh?” Dave said, his hips still moving without slowing. “Turn over I want to look at that pretty face when I cum.”

You were still shuddering as you laid on your back. Dave kissed you with urgency, his fingers massaging between your legs to make you gasp. He slid into you easily with a groan.

Dave bent your leg and gripped his hand around your shoe once again and took up his pace.

This was your favorite part, watching this man who was so disciplined, so steady, shudder and break inside of you. He lost the rhythm of his hips, his brow furrowed, and he made noises you knew he couldn’t control. He pulled out and spilled all over your shin and the top of your foot and watched his cum drip down to your shoe as his chest heaved.

You sat up on your elbows enjoying the expression on his face where he went blank, his mind completely destroyed.

He kissed you again, hard, his teeth raking your bottom lip.

“Get in the shower. I’m not done with you,” he breathed.

When you were both spent, your bodies practically giving out, you collected your clothes and you left. You and Dave never slept together. You didn’t need him for that.

/ / / / / / / / /

When the job in Macau was over and you’d gone home, you were exhausted. Every job was the same cycle of emotions. Excitement, the thrill of the hunt, the anticipation as you held your breath and fingered the trigger. It was quickly followed by darkness, self-loathing. You wished you could erase it all from your memory. But it was a living so you pushed it down and got back to work. That’s where you were, at the bottom of the roller coaster, when you went to pick up your next gig, to see which sorry son of a bitch was going to eat it next.

You’d get a call on your burner with a location to meet your contact somewhere where you wouldn’t draw attention– a park bench, a busy coffee shop. Today you were meeting him at a bus stop across town. He was already sitting patiently and he didn’t make eye contact with you. This was how it worked, you both went by first names that were probably fake, you tried not to look at one another, you kept it short and clean.

He slid you an envelope of cash which you threw into your bag. The rest of the money would be wired into an account when the job was done. Next came a file with a name and some information to get you started along with a picture. Usually you just threw that into your bag, too, but you were alone in the bus shelter so you cracked open the folder.

The person in the photograph you had only seen once but you recognized them immediately. You stopped breathing.

“What is this?” you asked.

“It’s a job.”

You stared at the photo. It was like all of the others, the subject unaware that they were being watched. The woman was good looking with dark hair in soft curls over her shoulders, beautiful bronze skin. It looked like she was on her way to work, wearing a neat blouse and dress pants. It put a knot in your stomach.

“Who’s job is it?” you asked.

“What’s it to you?” he replied and you could hear the impatience in his voice. “Do I need to tell the client there’s a problem?”

You frowned and shoved the file into your bag on top of the envelope.

“Nope. We’re good,” you said and you walked away.

You felt dirty. You wanted to go home and climb into the shower. It wouldn’t change the fact that you’d just accepted the job of killing Carol York.

Your bag sat at the center of the kitchen table for hours like it had been contaminated. You stared at it, leaning against the counter and holding onto a cup of coffee you felt too nauseated to put to your lips.

You’d never felt all that shitty about fucking her husband. Sure, somewhere deep down where your humanity still resided, there was a voice that told you how despicable it was. It was bad enough that Dave surely lied about what he did for work. But he was a big boy, you told your conscience. What he did and what he said to her were outside of your control.

You’d certainly never wished any ill on the poor woman. You weren’t jealous, you didn’t hate her. Whatever you and Dave had going on, it was like your work– it didn’t exist outside of those moments when you were on a job.

What had Carol York ever done to anyone? Maybe she forgot to sign a permission slip for a school trip or she’d gossiped about someone in her office. This hit wasn’t about her. It was to get to Dave. That’s what happened, you pissed off the wrong person and you found yourself in a file. But after all of the shit he’d put her through, whether she knew about it or not, it seemed unfair that his wife should have to pay for what he’d done.

You finally worked up the nerve to take the file out of your bag. You looked at it again, at the picture of Carol. You could see why Dave had married her, how the two of them would fit together in a family portrait.

You’d killed a lot of people without a second thought and you’d done it in all types of ways. You’d heard them struggle and beg. You’d seen the look in their eye as they realized that they were about to die, the fear and then the resignation and then acceptance. And you’d seen the light go out of them. It was simple once you got over the first few kills. But you took no pleasure in it.

Maybe that was what had drawn you and Dave together. Killing chipped away a part of you that other people couldn’t understand. It wasn’t like you could build it back by being with him but it was at least a good distraction, a way to remind yourself that you were human and living. A way to forget that actions had consequences. There was no good or bad in this game.

But that was just something you told yourself. There were people who didn’t deserve to be at the other end of your gun. Carol was one of them.

You went over to the stove and turned on one of the burners. You carefully dangled the corner of the photograph over the blue flame until it caught and you watched it curl and burn until her whole face had been engulfed and turned to black ash. When the flames licked close to your fingers you dropped the last of it into the sink.

You weren’t going to kill Carol York. You couldn’t do that to her. You couldn’t do that to Dave either.

You’d thought about getting out of the game before. Everyone broke eventually. But it was impossible to quit. There were two ways out of this life and both of them were ending yours. For some reason seeing Carol’s face in your file was what pushed you over the edge. Most likely, if you didn’t kill her someone else would. But you couldn’t.

You gave yourself three days to plan so you didn’t have time to chicken out and change your mind. You bought fashion glasses with clear plastic lenses at the mall. You got hair dye. You collected the cash you had on hand including the new envelope that had come with Carol’s file. It was enough to get you going for a good while. You already had passports and IDs with your face and somebody else’s name. You had to be prepared in this business.

You didn’t tell Dave. You didn’t warn him or say goodbye. You were doing him enough of a favor and he ought to be grateful for that.

You went to the bus depot, paid cash for a Greyhound ticket heading out of state, and just like that you were gone.

-----

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#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york pit #dave york fic

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brazilian-hot-mess · 3 years

Note

Maju stop lurking and share your family au has to the public, I know you think about them just as much as me you COWARD

It's still BrArg Headcanon Sunday, right?

So I will ramble about the Family AU BrArg kiddos

Maria Sol: aka marisol aka sol. The oldest, had an emo phase in her teenage years that never faded away, the goth kid of the family. She is the one that most resembles Luciano’s temper out of the three, as stubborn and certain in her opinions as he is. She is also the most likely to fall for Martín’s fatherly teases (as Luciano used to do before he grew older and wiser and boring lol). From Martín she inherited the charm and the slight arrogant air that makes people want to kiss her or punch her or both, and she knows it. She is also shamelessly proud of her effect on people, just like Tíncho. She is Afonso's favorite, mostly because she runs to him every time she has a problem (specially when it’s a problem she can’t tell her parents because it happened when she decided to not follow their advice, like that time she got a piercing without telling anyone and the thing got infected and she thought her nose would fall off and her first thought was calling her grandpa. Afonso not only helped her but built a whole speech in her defense). After her gothic phase soothes a little she becomes very spontaneous, she talks a lot with her hands (and arms, and body in general) which makes her a terrible card player, her poker face is terrible, and she loses every bet against Juliana. She keeps playing, tho.

Juliana: the middle kid, wise as middle kids tend to be. She knows how to lay low so no one meddles in her business, and takes advantage of the fact that both her siblings are not subtle at all lol. A crybaby, just like Martín and an incurable romantic that wrote poems dedicated to the moon when she was a teen. She inherited Luciano’s ability to kill people with kindness, in a way, she is a master in taking a jab at people without them noticing it. She had to practice it tho, I think she was a very impulsive kid and fought a lot in kindergarten (a fact that led to multiple occasions where Martín had to go talk with her principal about his little girl’s behaviour and failed miserably in scolding her because, in his opinion, - the only one that counts - she was completely justified in her anger), but she was smart and soon learned that it’s best to not be showy about it. Also, she is Macau’s (she has a natural talent for card games and frequently asks for his advice which makes his ego very happy) and Sebastián’s favorite. No one speaks about it but everyone knows it.

Thiago: mini-Martín, daddy’s boy. Inherited all of Tincho’s charm and Luciano’s big eyes, he takes all advantage of both this fact and the fact that he is the youngest sibling and is a lovable bastard. He has a habit of rambling about his dramas to anyone who is willing (or not, he doesn’t care) to listen to it. Mostly Juliana takes this role, as they share a room. He is a little bit spoiled, and that’s completely Martín’s fault and everyone knows that, but what could he do, Thiaguinho is just so lovely and cute (and exactly like him) how could he ever deny something to his loved baby boy?? One of my favorite headcanons about him is that one time Luciano said no to him (and fairly so) when he was like 5yo, and Thiaguinho decided that his family did not deserve him, took one single shirt and announced he was leaving that household. He stood on the porch for like... two whole hours before coming back as nothing had happened, while Luciano had to physically restrain Martín from going outside and beg for Thiaguinho to forgive them and come back home papá missed him so much already. He is everyone’s favorite, he just needs to bat his pretty lashes and smile and people will do anything for him. And he knows it, for his sister’s annoyance, as he got out of lots of (deserved) groundings on charm alone lol

#mywriting #myheadcanons #family au #brarg #lh brazil #lh argentina #hws portugal #lh uruguay #hws macau #lusofam #latin hetalia #there is more headcanons about the kids i think but the ask is already too big for my standarts lol #also im not a COWARD im ~lazy~

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bangtanblurbs · 3 years

Text

young forever

song: young forever by BTS

first experience: strangely enough i have a very visceral memory of when forever young dropped. it was during finals week of my final year in undergrad. the song released on a sunday in the wee hours (or perhaps a monday? - days tend to run together during finals week). i didn’t have many assignments due that year since my course load was light and i was really just coasting into grad school the year afterwards (at the same institution i attend for undergrad). i remember logging onto youtube and catching the video as it premiered. i was stunned. HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2 were heavenly to me, so of course young forever was greatly anticipated for me - the aesthetics, continuation of the story, and also simply getting new bangtan music. the cotton candy color pallet loaded onto my phone screen, and RM’s beautiful voice can through my earphones... i was immediately in love.

every member looked completely stunning. the message i got from the video was... incredibly powerful. the maze. the lyrics. all of it resonated with me, a young woman -- 22 years old -- soon to turn another corner in life. i sat in my dorm room preparing for a busy week, as i was the RA in my dormitory and needed to help my students move out that week... as i prepared for my graduation and transition into my next step in life... i was also shipping out to macau, china for the summer in a few weeks so i geared up for that. this video dropping was almost a breath of fresh air from everything going on. i was able to really sit and enjoy it, but also reflect on my past, present, and the future to come.

feelings: well, i have quite a lot. as someone who has been chronically obsessed with the story of peter pan since age seven, i’d say that youth is something i value - perhaps a bit too much. what’s interesting though is young forever isn’t necessarily about youth in the rawest sense... it’s also about dreams, reaching the point in your life where you’re happy, with yourself, your circumstances, ultimately your place in life. which i suppose most people equate that with youth, the innocence and naivety of it all. for me, thinking about forever young is kind of about that anxiety we carry as we get younger - have a made good use of my youth? did i squander it, getting caught up in the day to day or bogged down by my demons? the worry that our youth is our prime and when it’s gone, where do we go next? retire? it’s kind of funny thinking about this now as I’m 27 instead of 22. do i feel any older? no, not really - i feel the same. the same energy, the same zeal for life. do i look back on the days when i was younger and think that my youth is gone? no. for me - youth - it’s a state of mind. it’s an ethos, a way of proceeding forwards in my life. i didn’t always think this way - perhaps that was wrapped up in my anxiety about getting older. i used to lament my birthday each passing year - god turning 23 felt the absolute worst for some reason. it’s funny now though - how i almost feel younger, lighter, now than i did. youth should be a feeling of unburdened peace right? ideally it would seem so - but the reality in our world today... youth is pain. youth is struggling. youth is stumbling through the dark and trying to figure out who the hell you are, who the hell you want to be. i still feel like i’m stuck in that place, that place of wonder - of reaching out, exploring, experiencing... i feel as naïve as ever despite the pain that courses through some of my life.

so back to young forever - how does the song make me feel? it makes me feel at home. at peace. forever we can carry our youth, forever we can approach our lives with childish curiosity, with the energy to follow our dreams, with a dedication to our passion, and an and endless realization that change is the only constant in our lives. despite the ups and downs that might come with living with this mindset - i wouldn’t want to live any other way. what’s the point of continuing to grind hard every day in the cruel systems our society has built if we can’t at least say we did it with voracious appetite to experience fully our surroundings, emotions, and imaginations?

personal connection: it’s rather hard for me to nail down all of my personal connections to young forever. as i mentioned, i have a really strong connection to the story of peter pan. i’ll briefly explain why and how that plays in here - but i must warn you... if you’re uncomfortable with strangers oversharing on the internet, perhaps this isn’t the blog for you to read. i’m quite comfortable bearing my soul to people i don’t know. for some reason vulnerability has never been something i’ve struggled with - perhaps it’s the naivety i love about myself. anyways... here we go.

when i was 17 my best friend passed away from cancer. it was relatively quick. just a summer we spent together gossiping in a hospital room, machines beeping while we tried our very best just to giggle about boys and lament our torturous IB courses. i’d known her nearly my whole life. meeting in second grade - and bonding quickly over a love for the whimsy of peter pan’s story. we’d gush on the playground about flying away to neverland - where we could do whatever we wanted. explore, sing, fly. but she was gone then. gone far too soon. frozen in a youthful state in my mind. her passing is still the hardest thing i’ve ever been through in my life, and i’ve been through some scary shit. immediately when i hard young forever i thought about her. i thought about how she lived. she was fearless. the bravest and strongest person i ever knew, and still to this day, have ever known. knowing her - experiencing her soul - it changed me. once she passed away i had to be strong, my classmates looked to me as their rock, my parents forbid me to cry, everyone pushed me into adulthood way too quickly. i was just a seventeen year old girl. i was having a crisis - i wanted nothing more than to speak to my best friend as i navigated choosing my next steps after high school. but she wasn’t there, and i wasn’t allowed to feel. i was terrified. my youth was gone. nothing seemed fun anymore. youth became pain as i looked around at my peers who were back to normal in a matter of weeks. giggling with one another, moving along with life. i became a robot. quickly i threw myself into school work. i was already a high achieving student but i climbed higher. i worked harder. i had decided that for the life she couldn’t live, i would live it for her. i’d go to the best college i could, i’d do all the things i never dreamed i could. i’d do it for her. but i wasn’t living. i had let my youth go. i was fading away. just a shell.

it’s funny. or perhaps it’s not. young forever is a comfort song. a comfort song with some incredible darkness in it. the anxiety in namjoon’s verse, yoongi’s speaking to hiding feelings - pushing forward despite what he carries, hoseok’s verse about letting himself go and just giving what he has to keep pushing. their words - that’s how i felt. the song dropped around four years after my friend’s passing. i needed it before then. although perhaps it wouldn’t have “saved me” because music doesn’t save, music gives us the strength and comfort we need to save ourselves (i’m not a fan of taking way my own agency in MY story), it might have offered me a light in an increasingly blurry world.

a year prior to the song’s release i’d spent a summer in china. my life changed there. i lived with seven incredibly bright middle school girls. that experience, i never thought it would start to heal me the way it did. they were under immense pressure (the education system in china is total bullshit)... and they told me “caroline, youth is pain. it’s not beautiful. it’s a period where we struggle the most.” i’d never heard this. the typical western perspective is that youth is “the most beautiful part of life” - it’s where you fall in love, it’s where you get hurt and you pick yourself up, it’s where you find yourself, you feel invincible. but that’s just it - it’s also where you can get incredibly lost (like the maze in the video). not all of us experience youth without pain. this perspective helped me to heal. i wasn’t so alone - i wasn’t squandering my youth, sure - i was treading water - but that was okay. i could cry. i could feel. and so, at this point i began to write my own story again. rather than living for someone else, i decided to throw the book out the window, to pick myself and run like hell towards what i wanted. to accept the freefall of life. that’s youth. that’s the most beautiful part of life. the part where you free yourself from whatever chains society has on you. youth is only associated with being a child because that who should be the most free. when truly youth, youth is that period in your life when you learn to live for yourself, your dreams. dream, hope, keep going. don’t fucking stop.

so this brings us to 2016. i was weeks away from a new journey abroad when young forever dropped. i was doing better. life felt lighter. i still had a long way to go, but some things i’d gotten right. i gained confidence, i navigated my interpersonal relationships with more poise. etc etc. going to china the second time, it changed me more. i did things on my own i’d never dreamed of doing. crossing multiple national borders, making friends with people i couldn’t communicate with. i opened my heart to it all. and i fell in love with myself. for the first time. i fell in love with how completely i embraced my freedom and coupled it with my drive, my passions. that is what young forever is about. it’s about the struggle but the continued commitment to the state of mind that once you’re free - once you embraced that childlike state of being - you can achieve so much happiness.

which brings us to now - how do i connect to the song now? much in the same way that i did before. carrying these emotions connected to this song so deeply into adulthood has been incredibly touching. i’ve matured with bangtan. from 2015 to now. i’ve only grown in how i embrace my youth. sure, i have to conform at times, play the adult, but the motto “dream, hope, keep going.” that’s what i live by. nothing can change that for me now. i’m still fucking lost, but i’m running like hell. i have my setbacks, my demons, my challenges, but i’ve never been so fucking free. that’s young forever for me. thank you for reading my story.

song breakdown:

musically: something i truly love about young forever is that it’s really atypical in how it flows musically and the entire structure of the song. it’s creativity run wild - it’s a story and build. and i love that. it starts off slow, soft, with a sweet sadness. the highlight isn’t the backing track, it’s the honey rap voices. it’s absolutely perfect. understated and building. with each new voice that comes in the beat speeds up. it’s like running. which is fitting. because the story in the song is that of bangtan. the lyrics say it, the boys are worried - worried about how well they’ve done, when they’ll stop gaining success, concerned that all of this life will end, wondering who they are in this - the performance the journey. they are quite literally running towards their dreams. we see this in the song lyrically.

once the chorus comes, we need an increased speed in the beat and the song picks up with the chanting of the mantra. “forever, we are young.” us together, bangtan and ARMY. the song fades into the beautiful clapping beat, the refrains of dream, hope, keep going. musically the song is beautifully understated in a way that can only draw out the listeners’ emotions and highlight the charged encouraging lyrics. the story here is clear and only more illuminated by the musical choices.

vocally: young forever is such a treat. it’s a rap heavy song, but not in a way that takes away from the beautiful second half of the song which is full of beautiful vocal line refrains and ad libs. it’s a chant song. a comfort song. and perhaps that’s why it’s stuck with me for all these years as one of my ultimate favorite BTS songs.

when the song begins we are greet by namjoon’s beautiful low rap register. he delivers the rap melodically slow. you can appreciate the way his voice carries emotion and the tempo of the beginning story, of the emotional journey the song embarks upon. following namjoon’s beautiful voice is yoongi. who assumes a slower rap style initially. he has a few parts where he treats us to shout rapping as well - which give us kind of a pleading emotion - we can hear his lament for the pressure placed upon him as he stands in the spotlight. finally, rapline is rounded out by hoseok - i’m gonna say it - this is one of hoseok’s best slow verses. he offers his usual spicy tone, giving the trap style endings to each line. the emotion hits it’s peak with the punch tones and hoseok’s strong committment to his lines expressing his desires, his drive.

the second half of the song is dominated by the beautiful tones of vocal line. taehyung leads us into the chorus with his beautiful deep register, followed by jungkook’s high tones. the juxtaposition of their voices coupled by jin and backed by jimin’s beautiful melodies is absolutely stunning. rapline takes turns coming in with the refrain “dream, hope, keep going.” all of this mixed together is simply stunning. it’s like hope in vocal form. we have the low and the highs, the singing voices and the speaking refrains. most devastatingly is jimin’s forever ever ever - piercing the background of the song. highlighting the longing - the conviction - to youth - the spirit of it, the beauty of it. the chant portion of the song is also what makes this song so devastating to hear live. everyone comes in, blends together and makes the message resonate completely.

lyrically: here. we. go. a DEEP DIVE. i think firstly, it’s important to start with the fact that we have a song, young forever, that was released as the epilogue to two devastating HYYH albums. HYYH was the epitome of youth themed albums. it encapsulated everything we associate typically with youth. love songs, songs about pain, songs about healing, songs about not being enough, songs about our dreams, songs about being lonely... it’s all there. both the beauty of youth and the beautiful pain of youth dominate HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2. then, those messages, those themes, were sealed with epilogue: young forever. why? well, my feeling is this is bangtan’s way of leaving us with the reality that youth isn’t something that’s fleeting. it’s not an age or state in time. it’s something we carry within. it’s how we approach the things we confront in our lives, how we live and move forward through adversity towards our passions and dreams.

now - with that out of the way it’s time to dissect some lyrics. there’s quite a lot here in the three rap verses so i truly hope to do them justice.

namjoon’s verse starts like a story, “the curtain falls” the end of a performance, often used as metaphor for the end of a certain point in one’s life. “the curtain falls and i’m out of breath / i get mixed feelings as i breathe out” clearly the chapter that’s closing for him has been an exhausting one, but he’s not sure about moving forward even though now he has the time to finally reflect and see what he wants next. to me, this speaks directly to where bangtan was at this point in their career. they’d been through the bullshit - the trainee days, the ridicule, the exclusion from the typical korean music system... they’d made it. I NEED U had one awards, RUN did as well, 2016 bangtan had begun to see the fruit of their labor pay off - but with that, what’s next. where do they climb next? what’s to come? there’s that feeling of unease for namjoon. “did I make any mistakes today? / how did the audience seem?” are the next lines, bringing in that sense of reflection. even though now he can breathe - he worries, what’s his impact, how do people feel about what he’s given them, did he have shortcomings? these thoughts flood in and set the mood for the next steps forward. these questions only become more as the pressure continues. the next and final three lines of namjoon’s verse group well together and offer us much more hope that the foreboding in the start of the verse: “i’m happy with who i’ve become / that i can make someone scream with joy / still excited from the performance.” the peace in these final lines, it’s kind of like the rest of the song - starting with the hardship, the unease, what must or has been overcome - mellowing out to realization that things will keep going on. namjoon is at peace with where is at the end of this chapter, he is glad he can stand on this stage bringing smiles to faces, and finally - the buzz of just being able to do music, that remains with him through all of the constant pressure. something about these lines, they’re beautiful.

just like that, yoongi’s verse begins. he provides the same metaphor to the listener. he is standing on an empty stage. the performance is over. the chapter is closing. HYYH is becoming the past for BTS. the struggles, will they be over too as they move forward with their progressing careers? “i stand on the empty stage while holding onto an aftertaste that will not linger for long” he begins - he knows that the high of this moment, the place they’ve reached in this time... it can’t be forever, the emotions of it all are beginning to fade into something else. he then moves on to offer some more insight into how he feels about that unknown of moving on: “while standing on this empty stage, i become afraid of this unpleasant emptiness.” this line seems telling to me - yoongi is someone that gets a lot from recognition, achievement, sharing his works with others. leaving the stage, moving away from this performance moment... it’s hard on him... he feels empty, his moment, his purpose - they’re over... at least for now. the anxiety seeps in. “within my suffocating feelings / on top of my life’s line” he starts to try and explain deeper his emotions, suffocation, a feeling of panic, likely anxiety or pressure induced. what’s next? will it demand more? he’s on top of his life’s line - he feels like he’s reaching his peak, not knowing where to go next, plateau? down? yoongi then lodges into almost a picture perfect description of what society can make us do in moments of pressure where we are feeling anxiety or panic - “without a reason, i forcibly act that i am fine / this isn’t the first time, i better get used to it” he’s going to put on a strong face, suppress how he really feels because at some point there could be another audience, he remains on the stage even if the curtains have closed. he forces himself to do so, and it’s a habitual thing for him. it sounds like truly this is habitual for yoongi - really needing to mask his fear, his panic, his anxiety for the sake of those watching. it tears me up, because it seems like he also knows that this will continue in his future. and the he realizes that keeping the mask on, it’s not something he’s able to do or perhaps interested in doing “i try to hide it, but i can’t.” the final lines of his verse leave us with some unease - they’re unclear - but perhaps they’re speaking to the fact that performing won’t be his forever... “when the heat of the show cools down / i leave the empty seats behind,” so at some point -- the excitement, the hype, it will be gone... those who want to see him, they’ll be gone too, and he’ll move on to what is next. or perhaps this could allude to the fact that the pressure of those watching goes away and he will finally feel comfortable? there’s a lot here. a lot left up and open.

and finally we round out rapline with hoseok’s verse - which leads us into the chorus and refrains. the first three lines of hoseok’s part go hand in hand with one another - they’re a natural progress of coping with one’s emotions and situation: “trying to comfort myself / i tell myself the world can’t be perfect / i start to let myself go.” the chapter is closing and hoseok is trying to tell himself, it’ll be okay. almost like listening to the song young forever - seeking comfort. a home. realizing that things aren’t always going to go his way, he can’t have this moment forever, and sometimes things are going to be ups and downs... the final line is perhaps the most startling, letting oneself go. realizing that there’s some pieces of yourself that are okay to let go, whatever is holding you back, keeping you stuck, sometimes we need to shed that to go forward with the youthful exploration that keeps life invigorating and exciting. or perhaps hoseok is thinking about the day in which he will let “j-hope” go and just be hoseok, without a stage in the traditional sense. “the thundering applause, i can’t own it forever” he moves on saying that this life won’t be his forever, at some point he will need to move on - realize that this moment is down, lose himself to it, and see what is next. yet - even with this knowledge hoseok continues “i tell myself, so shameless / raise your voice higher” it seems that there’s a conflict he’s facing - letting this moment go or screaming as loud as he can to hold onto it, and shamelessly so - letting go of all the constructed norms for how he should behave. perhaps, holding onto his YOUTH even as he grows older in age and should grow away from a youthful mentality. he is raising his voice and hopefully pushing forwards, perhaps just away from this stage and onto an even larger one. it seems this is the case “even if the attention isn’t forever, i’ll keep singing” he states. he will hold onto his passion, keep moving forwards with his music, his voice, his connection to whatever it is that wants to be connected to him - because this is his very soul and being. finally - hoseok closes out his verse “as today’s me, i want eternity / forever, i want to be young.” it seems that hoseok is choosing to be who he is at this moment, his youthful self, as long as he goes on. he will leave this version of himself, this beautiful, loving, hopeful version of himself as his mark on the earth for eternity.

moving into the chorus we have the iconic title line “forever we are young” which to me, it’s about taking youth forward with you in all that you do. taking your passion, your drive, your love, your hope -- pouring it into all that you do and not letting the outside spoil you and take that from you. keeping your passions and running towards them. that’s the core of the message in young forever.

jungkook then croons “under the flower petals raining down / i run, so lost in this maze” bringing us to think about how seasons change - flower petals can fall because of their abundance but also because they we are moving into winter. either way, the analogy of flowers is hopeful to me. blossoms on trees - the return in time. not the same blossoms, but just as beautiful as the previous ones. perhaps he’s speaking to the fact that the blossoms are falling now as the chapter is ending - which leads into the feeling of lost, of being in a maze... but the reality is, the flowers will come again. the can come again. so long as they keep running - there’s a chance for this beautiful moment to happen once again. that’s youth. perhaps you have your ups and downs, your moments in the sun (your spring days) and your cold days... but keep running, keep your energy, dream, hope, keep going. and you can return.

jin then offers the other refrain “even when i fall and hurt myself / i endlessly run toward my dream.” THIS is youth. this is it. that almost stupid attitude of not recognizing when you’re down and out... not recognizing when perhaps you should stop. turning up the energy at your weakest point even when authority is telling you to let it go. this is the essence of youthful hope and energy. even if they’ve failed, even at their lowest point, they’re cementing that they won’t stop until they achieve their dreams. once again. dream. hope. keep going. just keep fucking going.

finally the other refrain that is repeated throughout the chorus: dream. hope. forward. forward. is the direct translation. but, many would say it’s dream. hope. keep going. this is youth. our dreams, childish and pure. our hope, what we pour into ourselves, what we surround ourselves with - the light that keeps us going. and then constantly moving forward continuing even when our odds look bad. this shit resonates. bangtan did it. they dreamed, 7 boys at a small company. they hoped, holding onto one another, working hard, baby steps forward. they kept going. no matter the ridicule, the setbacks, they pushed forward. these words - they mean the world to me as i’ve pushed through shit in my life. i’m only where i am today because i, by some miracle, internalized this youthful mantra. allowing myself to dream, those moments of hope, pushing forward no matter what. that’s youth. that’s young forever.

performance: well this is shaping up to be quite a long post. i want to discuss both the MV and how live performances typically proceed. i’ve also attached to this post my personal video of young forever at the HYYH: the epilogue tour in macau. sorry for my screaming in advance.

MV: the MV is really interesting for the HYYH universe, although the same could be said for save me, which is technically in the universe... BUT the fact that the MV steps away from the storylines and almost takes us into the minds of the characters bangtan is playing is an interesting choice. we start off the video with the boys in a chain-linked fence maze, wandering around, and flashbacks for each of there characters. the overall aesthetic of the video fits with the lyrics and these feelings of uncertainty... the feeling of being lost... wandering from phase to phase in life. early on we see a scene of yoongi burning photos from the HYYH era - truly this song is about death to the past a new beginnings, overcoming the past but moving forward with the pieces of you that are important. the highlighting of the text “꿈 희망 전진 전진” or dream, hope, keep going - making it the mantra of the song. keep moving, keep running. almost it seems like the characters are running away from their demons as well. the members running off into the sunset together? it’s all about endings. new beginnings. but taking them on with determination and an attitude of childlike awe, glee, dreams, and determination.

performance: we’ve all seen the iconic wembley performance. we’ve probably all cried over it more than once. maybe it’s your comfort video? maybe it’s secretly mine (ha!). i can tell you, experiencing this song live... there’s really nothing like it. it’s understated. there’s no dance. nothing like that.

in the performances - namjoon appears alone in a starlight stage with the lyrics scrawling on a screen behind him. the lights are all dark, deep blue tones everywhere, it feels dreamy. the entire crowd is brought into a dream like state. it’s fitting, its absolutely fitting and incredibly stunning. yoongi then appears to namjoon’s left and hoseok to his right to be spotlighted for their respective verses. the emotion is everywhere. the song is even more incredible with a live band. you cannot imagine it. the chorus arrives with a change in vibe, a beautiful sunset is projected and the vocal line appears from the floor. all of the members stand shoulder to shoulder and belt the chorus and refrain. and you would not believe how devastatingly beautiful it is to hear ARMY shouting along. forever we are young. kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin. shouting together. again and again. clapping with one another. waving ARMY bombs. it’s completely emotional. i cried. i cried on the strangers next to me, that didn’t speak my language. there is nothing like it.

i must also note, the concert i was at we were all distributed lightsticks and banners with 꿈 희망 전진 전진 written on them. this song has been important since it released. it’s the core of bangtan’s rise. it is so important to these boys. and to many of us fans as well.

now - a word about what happened at wembley. bangtan had no idea that ARMY would sing young forever TO them. at WEMBLEY. fans who likely do not speak korean. chanting their mantra to them “kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin” and singing “foreverrrrr we are younnnnng” and saying they will keep going. they will walk their journey towards their dreams. something about that, it’s incredibly toughing. you and i cannot imagine how that must have felt for bangtan. the moment must have been completely surreal. one of the world’s largest stages, playing one of the most meaningful songs of their careers - a song meant to memorialize their climb to fame, their accomplishments, their youth that they likely felt the LOST during this climb to where they are now. jimin himself said that night “this song. wow. this song helped me a lot when things were really hard.” young forever means so very much to bangtan. it always has. and their fans chose that very song. we chose that song (rather we were there or not). it’s our mantra too. whatever we go through, we are on this journey, and we are not alone. we are not alone. we can muster the strength to carry on with that same youthful zeal for life. watching that video... it’s moving. it’s completely incredible. to be a part of this journey... just wow.

tl;dr: in conclusion... young forever is one of the BTS songs that has the most touching meanings, and it came at a very delicate time in their career. a time when they were finally getting the recognition they deserved and sought for a long time. a time when they were pivoting from “young” to “young adult.” a time when they likely struggled with a loss of their youth. all of this... it’s powerful because it’s not alien for those of us normal people. we all feel this. i’ve felt it as i’ve gone through tough shit and came out the other side changed, only to have to find my way through the maze and back to myself. youth and being young, it’s a state of mind. i think bangtan sincerely know and believe this. that’s what makes the song and the message it carries so incredibly powerful. so meaningful to us all. thanks for reading yet again.

#bts #bangtan #jin #j-hope #hoseok #namjoon #rm #army #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #yoongi #suga #Lyrics #hyyh #Young forever #analysis

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urmomsstuntdouble · 3 years

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happy jesus killing day lads, on this day i offer you some insider insight into my skater girls au

so they live in las vegas

the original idea was nyo spaus with them meeting when nyo prussia (annelise’s roommate) tears her acl while skating. anna is now required to drive her everywhere, which, for some fuckin reason still includes the skate park, which is how she meets isabel

julia is also in a rock band with kiku and chiara, and their current goal is to play in a casino. any casino really but since anna works at a casino, julia’s trying to get her to put a good word in, but anna doesn’t really want to because she’s stressed tm and she’s already driving julia everywhere, including to the fucken skate park, where she can’t do anything because she’s on crutches

isabel thinks all this is hilarious and likes to poke fun at anna a lot, cause she’s just sort of amused by this stressed out posh lady

the skate park is a sort of community gathering spot for all these fuckin lesbians of las vegas, and though anna isn’t a skater and doesn’t know anything about skating she still feels a little drawn to it

but she also cant take a fucken joke to save her life so when isabel starts teasing her she gets >:( in return, which gives her the reputation as an angy person and the skater girls start accepting her into the group

other skater girls include nyo sweden, nyo hong kong, nyo finland, hungary, iceland (they’re bad at it but want to be alt very badly), vietnam, seychelles, and Probably More once the au gets more developed

criteria to join the skater group is that i have to make a design where you look good on a skateboard/in skates

nyo sweden wanted to be a pro ballerina in her youth but also she’s stuck in vegas so the best she can really hope for is being a stripper or smth so she’s just gonna go be a pseudo ballerina but with inline skates

she’s also currently getting her phd in online school in education, and she’s married to nyo fin because i’m lazy and reusing my baseline human au characterisations for them

nyo hong kong is also stuck in vegas bc her uncle (yao) owns a casino

she’s not complaining about living at a casino bc thats undeniably cool, but she is complaining about having to live there all the time

ice and sey think its cool though and are supportive when she wants to crash at one of their houses for the night

nyo fin is a college dropout and she’s living with the other nordics in an apartment that’s a bit too far from the strip to walk, but she does it anyway (in the winter) cause she likes walking. she works at the same casino that yao owns, and she’s a very manipulative dealer

hungary is another roommate with anna and julia. she’s more into the skating for the excersize and used to want to be in the military, but now she’s just sort of making it through the days and working at a restaurant.

iceland is very upset with the fact that they’re a teenager in las vegas, but at least their friend lives at a casino and they won’t get kicked out for being queer. passionate about learning, but vegas isn’t really kid friendly, so they’re a bit >:(

vietnam skates to blow off steam. she is a bartender and hates the customer service aspect of her job, but she actually quite likes mixing drinks. she’d do quite a few things to escape, and she hates living in the desert, but here the fuck she is, at least for now.

seychelles is also a bit pissed about being a teenager in las vegas, and also pleased that her friend lives at a casino. she’s her class president at school and wants to go into education herself someday

other background/non skater characters include:

kiku, who plays bass in his band. julia and chiara are also in the band and play drums and piano, respectively. he has asked anna to join the band because she gets away with murder on the violin but she’s politely refused him. he’s their manager and books them gigs a lot. they’ve played at a lot of places around town, but are currently looking to get into some of the bigger casinos, like caesar’s palace or something

alfred, who’s one of chiara’s childhood friends. they moved to vegas together after high school (with the intent of moving to la) but alfred’s car broke down in the desert and they sort of wound up needing to live here so they could work to afford to fix the car and then make more savings to move to la but now they just live in vegas (they’re both from new york)

the other nordics! nyo norway works at a claires’ and nyo denmark is trying to make it as a standup comedian

yao, the owner of a casino. he’s one of those bosses who says stuff like we treat our employees like family here, and he actually sort of does but tis only because he’s a bit of a distant uncle. some of his relatives (hk, taiwan, and macau) have moved into the casino as well and he’s very stressed by all these responsibilities but can’t let anyone see him sweating so he maintains the air of a magnificent bastard

maybe india has seen him sweating.

chiara is also in the band, she’s their singer. the band was formed when she met julia at her old job, when she was a freelance singer and got hired to do the national anthem by germany’s high school, and they met at a football game. she’s in the band now and she’s Trying Her Best

i think that’s it actually

art for this au x x

#woof this took an while to type out but yeah this is my skater au #they skate <3 #hetalia #hws #skater girls au #back by unpopular demand #ceros posting #idk what else to tag this as #nyotalia #spaus??

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helltalia-inc · 4 years

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Hetalia Monday Challenge for June: Take a deep breath, because we only had started!

I'm proud that this page, even being little and unknown, is surviving thanks to the all participants and supporters. If you could reblog this on your page @hetaliahappenings and @heta-on-the-books, I would be really gratefull.

ALSO

Let’s spread Love and not Hate! Compliment once in a while and let’s have fun!

My apologies, I’m not good with words (truly, I’m terrible with words)

9th CHALLENGE: Childs’ Day

Since it’s the “Child’s Day” challenge and to make it interesting, I will give some options in “what characters are allowed” to use:

1) Every nation but ONLY IN CHIBI VERSION/ STYLE

For example, you have the Chibi style that Himaruya as reference

2) YOUNGER VERSION of the nations

For example, you have young Russia, Netherlands, Belgium, Romano, England, France, Ukraine, Hong Kong, Macau, Italy, Prussia, Spain (generally as a child, but also as a “younger version”) … but you can also imagine how would be other nations as a child or teenagers

3) Characters that look like a child or “young”/ teenager

It’s tricky to add teenager characters, when most of them look like really young and there isn’t an “official” age for them (not historically, but aesthetically/ physically speaking) … but headcanons are allowed, so there are no problems!

Some (personal) examples: (look like a child) Moldova, Wy, Kugelmugel, …; (look “young”/ teenager) Hong Kong, Iceland, Seborga, Liechtenstein, Czech Republic, Seychelles, …

-ON JUNE, 01 (MONDAY)

The participants will post their work. (Don’t forget the tag and to @ the page)

—————————————–

10th CHALLENGE: Recycle, Reduce, Reutilize

The nations do care about the environment and the pollution (by the way, the World Day of Environment was last day 05). Actually, how not care?

Remember that one time when Germany and North Italy were in Turkey sightseeing and a thief appear, and how Turkey punched him? Well, I believe that the same way that the countries care about how others look at them, they also care about environment (or at least keeping his house clean… like Monaco and Netherlands) because their clean house/ environment is their image. Never forget that Hong Kong asked Japan to help him to “purify” his house’ air.

And due to the actual reality, I think people have enough time to recycle.

(To be honest, I don’t know how the Hetalia fandom doesn’t have (almost) anything related to the environment (something like a “green zone section”). This was the first idea that I had for a challenge… my main and personal purpose to create this page)

-ON JUNE, 08 (MONDAY)

The participants will post their work. (Don’t forget the tag and to @ the page)

—————————————–

11th CHALLENGE: NORDIC’ CHARACTERS APRECIATION CHALLENGE!

You know what to do, don’t forget to bring the Nordics (it isn’t an “only character challenge”, so other characters are allowed besides the Nordics, but of course you can’t forget them, at least one of them)

-ON JUNE, 15 (MONDAY)

The participants will post their work. (Don’t forget the tag and to @ the page)

—————————————–

12th CHALLENGE: LGBT Respect Day

GAY PRIDE PARADE! (sorry for that) I don’t think I have to explain much this challenge. It is as it is. Be creative!

Just for curiosity, the official day for the “LGBT Respect Day” is 28.

-ON JUNE, 22 (MONDAY)

The participants will post their work. (Don’t forget the tag and to @ the page)

—————————————–

13th CHALLENGE: “if you really meant it, kiss me”

It isn’t a specific challenge for writing, you can use it also as a fanart challenge. But since we don’t get enough writing works, I decided to test if it was because I wasn’t stimulating it in that direction.

-ON JUNE, 29 (MONDAY)

The participants will post their work. (Don’t forget the tag and to @ the page)

—————————————–

PS. The images are not mine and I couldn't find the cap. translated in English.

Sorry for the long post 😅

Please let me know if you have any ideas for challenges, and anything you need feel free to ask too. ♥️

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infinitemyungsoo · 4 years

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200907 Myungsoo had a comment only Vlive “It’s 12:07pm”

fan: good afternoon!!!!

Myungsoo: it's lunch time

fan: hi oppa~~~ I miss you so muchㅠㅠㅠ

Myungsoo: hi hi

fan: have you had lunch yet?

Myungsoo: I think we should eat now ㅋㅋ

fan: what did you eat for breakfast?

Myungsoo: I had nuts and things like sweet potato

fan: did you just wake up?

Myungsoo: I've been awake for an hour and a half

fan: what's myongmyong oppa mbti's result?

Myungsoo: I did it because I had to but I think the result changes every time I do it

fan: what song should I listen to on a rainy day?

Myungsoo: stand by meㅋㅋ (Woohyun’s song)

fan: what are you going to do today?

Myungsoo: ah since today is recycling day I'm going to clean up

fan: Thailand fans really miss you

Myungsoo: I want to go there

fan: I met you during Macau fanmeeting this year but I want to see you againㅠㅠ

Myungsoo: I want to go to Macau too..!

fan: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ seems like you're always in the middle of cleaning and never get bored

Myungsoo: I always do something. I’m always thinking what to do while lying down

fan: how about Korea..? Korean fans also miss you a lotㅠㅠ

Myungsoo: I had a plan to do a fanmeeting half a year ago..ㅋㅋ

fan: Chinese fans also miss you a lot

Myungsoo: I want to go to there..!

fan: it's raining in my neighborhood. is it raining in Seoul too?

Myungsoo: looks like it's going to rain all day

fan: shall I stay at home all day today? what kind of meat that's good for today?

Myungsoo: if you're gonna to eat at home then I suggest you to have some rib eye

fan: I'm glad it's not hot anymore.

Myungsoo: that's right

fan: are there many mosquitoes in seoul?

Myungsoo: there's none at my home

fan: oppa what is Byul doing right now?

Myungsoo: he's looking outside

fan: I want to lose weight but I'm hungry

Myungsoo: exercise while eating unrefined carbohydrates (brown rice, beans, oatmeal)

fan: what time did you sleep last night??

Myungsoo: I slept around 3am after doing this and that

fan: why did you sleep so late?

Myungsoo: that's why my face looks quite swollen

fan: I have to see how swollen your face is so pls upload a pictureㅋㅋ

Myungsoo: I'm not good at taking selca..

fan: guess today is hard to get Myungsoo's reply hahah I'll try again next time

Myungsoo: see you again next time

fan: taking a selca doesn't need a skill for Myungsoo because your face is doing all the work

Myungsoo: ㅋㅋㅋ I'm not good at taking selca

fan: my bedding is all black in my room and the dust is so obvious when I sit down

Myungsoo: that's why you have to use white color for bedding

fan: do you have any recommendations for gifts for my mother?

Myungsoo: I'm sure she'll love all the gifts but you can have dinner together while talking to each other

fan: I'm having a Miss Hammurabi marathon these days. I enjoyed it

Myungsoo: ah thank you ~

fan: which role resembles Kim Myungsoo the most among the dramas you've filmed so far?

Myungsoo: I think it's Im Bareun..?

fan: Myungsoo oppa~ can you pls upload a selca?

Myungsoo: seems like you all want me to upload a selca. I get it. I'll try to take it but fyi my face looks swollen

fan: enjoy the autumn this year

Myungsoo: I always enjoy the autumn. the air is nice. I breathe as much as I can

fan: Please make a video of your cooking. it will be interesting to watch

Myungsoo: I'll consider it

fan: I did some research, one out of every 2 Koreans cleans up more than once a day and one out of 5 Koreans cleans up more than twice a day which is 4 times higher than the world average. Myungsoo must be in one of those categories right

Myungsoo: I clean up more than once a day

fan: I want to change my bedding please recommend a blanket color. my room has a lot of blue colors

Myungsoo: use white color. change to white color if you can take good care of it

fan: hi Myungsoo!! I'm from Chile. Please come to Chileㅠㅠㅠ I study Korean everydayㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Myungsoo: I had a good time in Chile..thank you for studying Korean~~^^

Myungsoo: A typhoon is coming. as the weather is getting colder, be careful not to catch a cold

translation by ifntvisual_ on twitter

#myungsoo #infinite #kim myungsoo #200907 #vlive #why does he say he doesnt take good selfies :(

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quiveringbunny · 5 years

Text

You Can’t Afford Him (Olicity fanfic, rated M) - Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2 of my fic.

If you missed Chapter 1, you can read it here on Tumblr.

If you prefer reading on Ao3, here are links to:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“Archer, meet Celeste Chen, who has impeccable taste in shoes and her fellow, Myles Crofton.”

Without missing a beat, Myles piped up. “I’m told she also has impeccable taste in boyfriends.”

At the utterance of their target’s name, Oliver had tightened his grip around Felicity, just enough for her to notice. Then he offered his hand to the arm’s dealer with a perfect playboy grin.

“Good to meet you, Myles.”

Myles offered the universal head nod that could have meant yes or the feeling is mutual. As with so many wealthy people, much was left to be interpreted.

“Panda told us you’ve had some bother with your luggage.”

“That’s right,” Oliver sighed. “Can you believe it?” He tried to seem put upon without coming off a complete dick so early in their interaction. If these two didn’t like him, they might shut down the obvious opening that Felicity had created for them.

“And since our room isn’t ready,” Felicity added, leaning into Oliver’s sizable shoulder, “it seemed like the good idea to spread a little cryptocurrency around the shops, although I guess since it’s all virtual it doesn’t actually spread.”

Oliver held his breath. He loved Felicity’s rambles, but he didn’t know if they translated well in other cultures. His worries dissipated when Celeste chuckled and Myles cracked a smile. He watched the woman tug on her man’s sleeve and then give him a questioning look. Myles took note, shook his head, then wordlessly wandered away, raising his phone to his ear. Oliver was curious, but forced himself to remain partially attentive to the half of the couple that remained. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Myles. On his first call, everything seemed fine. Then, it was as though he was talking to someone else because he looked agitated. He didn’t raise his voice so they could hear, but he was seething for a moment.

“Archer, I know this is Panda’s first visit to Macau. What about you?”

“I have a recollection of passing through once with my family, but it was decades ago. So much has changed since then. It’s incredible now. The architecture. The energy. The beautiful women,” he added pointedly. Felicity raised an eyebrow at him, at which he became very serious. “And by that I mean that Panda wasn’t here, so it was much less attractive then.”

The two of them studied each other for a moment, then Felicity playfully prodded Oliver’s ribs.

“Good recovery there,” Celeste volunteered.

“Yes,” Felicity smirked. “My hero.”

“Do you two have any dinner plans tonight? We would love for you to join us.”

Felicity looked up at Oliver, her eyes twinkling. They needed to play it cool, but she really wanted to pump her fist in the air at this moment.

“We don’t have plans tonight, do we Baby?” Felicity looked up at Oliver with a warm smile.

“I think we do now, PandaBear. That is very kind of you, Celeste,” Oliver offered the woman a genuine smile. “I hope I won’t be overdressed,” he added, looking down at his tuxedo.

“Nonsense,” Celeste replied. “It’s perfect.” She then directed her gaze to Felicity. "You have excellent taste, Panda."

Oliver felt Felicity’s hand slip between his shirt and his jacket and rest near his heart. He hoped she couldn’t feel it beating more violently than usual. What had gotten into her? The touching? Apparently Pandora Fleece was a lot more handsy than Felicity Smoak. He hadn’t even begun to process their earlier kiss. And what was that about Felicity having good taste? Before Oliver could question or protest, he was interrupted.

“That would be lovely,” Felicity responded to the other woman while softly running her fingers against Oliver’s expensive shirt-covered abs.

Just then, Myles returned and took the hand of his beautiful Celeste. He wasn’t the only one who could be affectionate. Of course, the Americans were always a little too obvious about it in public. Celeste studied his face for information.

“I have had a word with the desk. Just go see the concierge. He will be looking after you personally.”

Felicity and Oliver expressed enthusiasm for their host’s kindness.

“No problem,” Myles replied. “One of the benefits of owning the place.”

“Oh, wow.” Felicity feigned surprise. She could not let on how much they already knew about the man. They were, after all, just tourists.

“Thank you,” Oliver added, “that’s very kind.” He offered his hand again with a sincere smile. Myles took it.

“Don’t mention it.” Myles turned to Celeste. “Darling, I am now running late for a meeting and I’m told the art consultant is upstairs. I’m afraid we are going to have to try this shirt thing another day.”

“Of course,” Celeste sighed. “Panda, I’ll have dinner details sent to your room.”

“That’s wonderful, Celeste. We are looking forward to it.”

xoxoxo

Once they had settled the details with Javier regarding the final purchase, arrangements were made to have Archer’s clothing sent up to their room via the hotel concierge. Throughout the transaction, the two generally avoided eye contact. There was much to be said, much to explain, but it had to wait until they were in private.

The two proceeded to the concierge station near the front desk and were greeted enthusiastically by a middle-aged woman named Kim who had jet black hair with a shock of white on one side. She smiled warmly and apologized far too much for inconveniencing them. When she signaled for them to follow her away from the desk, they realized she was going to escort them to their room herself. The two exchanged curious looks as they proceeded up an elevator to the 25th floor. The woman finally led them down a gold and red-hued hallway to a very opulent door. She swiped a metal card and it unlocked with a decisive click.

It was a suite. Not a junior suite like at the Marriott with a fold out couch, a sad desk in the corner and a couple of bottles of water. It was a full-fledged apartment, suitable for hosting visiting dignitaries. If they were sultans. The space had a dark Arabian Nights kind of vibe. Felicity found herself gawping, legit gawping, as the woman provided the grand tour of the rooms and amenities. Huge sitting area with tall windows. Massive bedroom with gigantic bed. Check. Large sitting room with fainting couch off the bedroom. Crazy fancy bathroom with a huge soaking tub and a rain shower. Check. Second fancy bathroom. Check. Pillows. Pillows. Pillows. Everywhere. Flowers. A chilled bottle of wine placed in a cooler on a wet bar. It just became more ridiculous with every moment.

“Excuse me, Kim. This is truly amazing, but it definitely isn’t what I reserved.”

“Yes, Miss Fleece. Mr. Crofton would like you to stay in this suite. It is one he sets aside for his and Miss Celeste’s friends.”

“I am speechless,” spoke the young woman, who had eyeballed some of the finest accommodations in Las Vegas when she was young.

“Thank you,” Oliver volunteered, seeing the woman to the door. “This was a very generous gesture. We are so very grateful.”

The woman explained that she would have their purchases brought up when they were available and would call with details of their dinner plans. Oliver thanked the woman again and was grateful that tipping was not standard practice in Macau for this particular service, as he didn’t have any cash in his pocket.

Once the woman was gone, Oliver kept staring at the closed door, collecting his thoughts before he turned to see Felicity sitting tentatively on an opulent couch, her chin resting on her hands. He considered his next move carefully and then acted swiftly, as he always did.

Oliver moved across the carpet and sat right down next to Felicity, invading her personal space. His warm body and even hotter breath tickled her ear and she gasped. The look in his eye was curious, even to her, and she had seen all of his expressions - or so she thought. It was like he wanted her. But that couldn’t be right. Just as she became uncomfortable with his gaze and attempted to shift away, Oliver grabbed her arm and whispered into her ear.

“Can you sweep the rooms without anyone knowing?”

Felicity let out a relieved and in no small way disappointed sign and nodded. Soon, she was grabbing her phone from her bag and touring their digs again, chatting mindlessly about the decor and the amenities, all the while checking for listening devices and cameras. It was unlikely their space would be monitored, but Oliver was right. It was good to check. After her circuit, she ended up in front of her partner, who was standing at a bank of windows, looking out on the Macau harbor in the afternoon sun.

“It’s clean,” she announced, brightly.

“Good.” His voice was flat. Tired, perhaps. But there was more to it. “I’m going to rest.”

With that, Oliver walked into the bedroom, past the bed and into the sitting room. He disappeared behind a closed door, leaving Felicity alone and unsure of what had just happened.

xoxoxo

Felicity knew something was off with Oliver. He hadn’t said more than a few words to her after they left Dolce & Gabbana and then he seemed to want to ditch her the moment they got into their insanely beautiful suite after looking at her with expressions she couldn’t decipher. Now he was asleep. An afternoon nap also seemed uncharacteristic of Oliver, but they had been traveling for 24 hours and it wasn’t unreasonable to imagine he could be wiped out.

Not knowing what to do next, Felicity first jumped on her tablet and made the necessary changes to their backstory support on the web to accommodate a quick alteration in cover stories, just in case. She also did some snooping on Celeste and soon discovered she was a very sought-after debutante in Hong Kong before coupling up with Myles Crofton.

A knock at the door signaled the delivery of numerous bags from the dress shop and D&G. Felicity had the stewards litter the living area with them.

Eventually, the lure of the amazing soaking tub in the master bath became a distraction. Felicity gathered up her purchases and took up residence in what amounted to a marble temple. She helped herself to some of the high-end bath products that were provided on the counter, slipped into the tub, and finally felt herself decompressing from the many sharp turns of the day. But every time her mind started to clear, her thoughts drifted to that kiss.

What had possessed her to do it? Was an epic lip-lock really necessary to sell their cover at that point? Or had she done it to mark her territory — as if Oliver Queen was hers? Felicity debated with herself about it for quite some time and then decided that, yes, the smooch had quickly and definitively established the credibility of their cover to the target of their mission and created greater potential for mission success since it led to an invitation to socially engage with said target.

Yep. That’s exactly what it did. The fact that Oliver’s lips felt so hot and strong against hers, while remaining curiously soft was irrelevant, as was the way he smelled — woodsy and masculine — even though he had been cooped up on a plane for a day. She could almost still feel it reverberating on her mouth. Imagine what an actual kiss with Oliver Queen might feel like, if a fake one had her knees buckling in a designer clothing store! She couldn’t bring herself to entertain that thought. Oliver wouldn’t kiss someone he could care about. She had to remember that.

Felicity also needed to remind herself that allowing her feelings to take over could be dangerous for her heart. And they were already surrounded by physical danger just being there in Hong Kong, thousands of miles away from home, trying to wheedle their way into the private business of a man who made an impressive fortune buying and selling devastating weapons. That man might have even procured Mirakuru and the potential to raise and army of nearly invincible killers.

This was simply no time to moon over her infuriating and attractive partner. There it was - the crux of her situation, clear as day. Lives could be at stake, Smoak. Pandora Fleece and Archer Middleton were just the masks they needed to wear to be heroes now.

After a solid soak, Felicity emerged from the water with a clearer head. She was back on mission now. Hyper-focused. Once she had finished fretting, she spent twenty solid minutes considering various scenarios that could transpire with Myles Crofton and devising ways to use them to gain access to his sensitive data. Ew. That sounded a little sexual. Her mind always found the worst ways to say something.

Her first task was to fix her hair. She couldn’t decide how she would wear it for the evening. Up? Down? Straight? Curly. Being a lady uncover was not easy. She stared at herself in the mirror and grimaced.

Felicity distracted herself from the dilemma by rooting through the luxuriously-packed boutique bags and pulling out items she had sourced hours before. This included a flat box. Inside, there were three pairs of red satin panties nestled inside cream-colored tissue paper. Three. Huh. She had asked for just two pairs, but maybe Margot was feeling generous.

At first she snorted at them. Silly scraps of fabric. But then she reconsidered. Maybe they would be good luck. She could definitely use some if they were going to be successful on their mission. Who was she to turn down potential good fortune?

Relenting, she soon discovered she had underestimated them. Those ridiculous panties. How they would make her feel when she slipped them on. But the satin was perfect and rubbed deliciously against her skin. Looking at herself in the mirror…admiring herself…Felicity felt sexy and powerful. She didn’t know she needed this. God bless Margot.

Still not sure what to do with her hair, she decided to do her makeup next. But she would need to retrieve her purse from the living area sofa first. She enveloped herself in a plush white terry robe emblazoned with the logo of the hotel and emerged into the master bedroom.

Her breath was stolen when she found Oliver sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom door. He was wearing his tuxedo, but was currently foregoing the jacket. His tie was missing and his top shirt buttons open. His posture was deflated until he saw her and sat up straight. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her, carefully, studying her while Felicity tightened the belt on her robe and attempted to settle her breathing.

Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Felicity was waiting for Oliver to say something, perhaps to reveal what seemed to have him out of sorts earlier. Meanwhile, the Arrow’s face reflected a heavy storm, one that he couldn’t find the words to express.

“I…I just needed my purse,” she finally stammered, gesturing toward the main room. Suddenly, she was moving, scooting out to collect her bag.

Oliver’s eyes followed her as she rushed out of the room and snagged her purse from the coffee table. She returned wordlessly, steering herself back toward the bathroom. This felt beyond awkward.

“I was going to ask your opinion about how to wear my hair but since you don’t seem to be speaking to me…” she muttered, her back to him as she headed to the door. Then she heard his voice rumble, quiet and deep.

“Down.” He cleared his throat. “Your hair looks nice just like that.”

Felicity stopped and turned around.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Their staring contest reconvened. Oliver was winning like Secretariat.

xoxoxo

Oliver had woken up from a short, but deep nap in the late afternoon and then brooded in a sitting room for at least an hour. Maybe two. Every that had happened earlier in the day with Felicity in the boutique played over and over in his head. He still hadn’t talked to her about the events that led to an apparent role reversal in their cover stories.

How had she connected with Myles Crofton so quickly and made such an impression that they were already invited to dine with him and his girlfriend? The obvious answer was…it was Felicity. She was remarkable, after all. He should have known better by now to even wonder. But he was still curious.

And then there was the damn kiss. She completely surprised him with that move. He knew it was probably necessary to establish some kind of relationship with Crofton and Celeste, but it was unexpected and unsettling. He really needed to talk to her.

He opened the door to the bedroom and realized she was using the bathroom. Rather than interrupt her, he wandered out into the living area and found the bags containing the purchases from Dolce & Gabbana. He took them to the extra bathroom before indulging in a relaxing shower.

After getting cleaned up, Oliver began digging through the bags. The shop had been aware of his luggage predicament and added a number of items he might need. There was a sample of aftershave and even a simple pair of pajamas. He didn’t wear pajamas, but maybe he should start. It appeared that the hotel had also chipped in some extra toiletries so he could trim his beard.

Oliver finished dressing, except for his jacket and tie, and wandered around the main room of the suite. Okay, he was pacing, considering what he wanted to say to Felicity and whether or not he could actually express himself, even if he got his shit together, as well as worrying that any kind of conversation now might be counterproductive to the mission. A dangerous mission. Eventually, he ended up sitting in the bedroom directly across from the bathroom door, slumping a little in his designer clothes. It occurred to him that if Thea could see him, she’d give him all kinds of shit for wrinkling the Dolce.

It’s funny when you are waiting for something to happen and then when it does, you are still surprised. That’s how Oliver felt when the bathroom door swung open and Felicity emerged, barefoot and enveloped in a hotel robe. Suddenly, the situation, the job, felt so intimate. This was Felicity like she might be at home in the morning getting ready for work or dressing for a date with someone who wasn’t him.

And he had no words. Everything he had been going over in his head earlier seemed pointless and petty. All she had to do was stand there and look at him. Like that. He could tell when she blanched that he was probably making her uncomfortable with his silence. He knew that Felicity hated pregnant pauses. It was like her brain wanted to switch on and begin ruminating on a problem or a piece of code, but it couldn’t because there might be some pending exchange.

Felicity appeared to wait a moment, then she rushed into the other room. Something about her purse. Oliver took a steadying breath, no longer under scrutiny. Get it together Queen.

When Felicity came back into the room, she didn’t engage with him at all, but rather headed for the bathroom.

“I was going to ask your opinion about how to wear my hair but since you don’t seem to be speaking to me…” she said quietly.

Something in him cracked at that comment. It wasn’t that he wasn’t speaking to her. He simply didn’t know what…how to say anything when she was right there, shimmering like a terrycloth mirage.

She sounded offended. Say something, Queen. She never asked him how he liked her hair before and in all honesty, he liked it however she wore it. Wait? Did she say something about him not speaking to her?

“Down.” He choked out. “Your hair looks nice just like that.”

Felicity stopped moving forward. She pivoted and looked right into his eyes, surprised.

“Okay,” she whispered, tilting her head.

A force — Oliver really had no idea what it was, or he didn’t want to name it — pulled him up off the bed and drew him toward her at the doorway like a magnet. And now she was looking up at him, her blue eyes blazing with curiosity.

“Why did you think…I wasn’t…I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to say,” he exhaled, towering over her, but still seeming soft and sincere.

“Usually I’m the babbler, Oliver. That’s my thing. You wear the leather and put the fear of God in people.”

Felicity followed up her statement with a sweet smile, trying to defuse what had quickly become a tense moment. Oliver let out a breathy chuckle and looked at the ceiling to gather himself.

“I do that, don’t I?”

“You do, although if I’m being honest, I prefer you doing the former to the latter because leather is, you know,” she grinned, “hot and fear of God gets kind of arrowy and there’s blood. Not that it’s your blood. I mean, actually, usually it’s somebody else’s but it’s still gross and gets all over the leather, which is good.”

Oliver was shaking his head now. God, she was adorable.

“And I’m babbling again. Oliver you have to stop me when…”

“Felicity,” he spoke sharply. Then he grasped her arms at her elbows, holding her still. He had her attention now. “Earlier, you kissed me.”

Felicity’s eyes slammed shut for a moment. She couldn’t run, but she was definitely thinking about it. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain what was happening, but when I met Celeste we talked about cryptocurrency and it was a crazy coincidence that her boyfriend was involved in it and she wanted me to meet him and then there he was…freaking Myles Crofton himself and it felt like an unexpected opportunity and I should run with it.”

When her eyes opened, he was studying her face, looking at her with unexpected warmth.

“Felicity, look at me.” Oliver left hand disengaged from her arm and he gently placed his palm against her cheek. Felicity’s eye’s fluttered open.

“When we were at the house and I needed to get Slade,” Oliver said with a quiet, deliberate tone, “I said something to you…”

“It was just for the mission,” she volunteered, trying to button down her expression, which likely still reflected disappointment. “You gave me the syringe.”

Oliver shook his head and he sighed.

“It’s alright, Oliver. We have to say things sometimes that we don’t mean.”

“The natural thing for me to do to really sell the plan to Slade would have been to kiss you.”

Felicity avoided his glance as heat rose on her face. He was still cupping her jaw against his hand and she was enjoying that feeling. It was tender. Sweet.

“But I didn’t want to do that,” he continued. Felicity turned her eyes up to meet his. If he was going to deliver bad news, they should just get it over with so she could go back in the bathroom and fall apart alone.

“Felicity, I’ve kissed a lot of girls. You could wallpaper a room with pictures from the tabloids of me doing thoughtless things and making an exhibitionist ass out of myself back before the island. But I’m different now. I didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be a ruse. I wanted it to be perfect and, just…I thought if it was ever going to happen, I wanted it to be real and I didn’t want to share that moment with anyone but you.”

His beautiful partner’s eyes grew wider as she processed what he was saying.

“Oh. Oh, you wanted to…” her expression morphed from surprise to devastation. “Oh God. Did I ruin it? I did, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have…”

Her voice trailed and room became silent except for the hum of the air conditioning system.

Oliver watched Felicity’s eyes started to fill with moisture. His pulse rose with concern. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He leaned down and his eyes shined at her in a way he had never allowed in the past.

“No,” he rasped. “It was just practice. For this.”

Then he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and the other circled her waist, rubbing against the soft terrycloth belt of her robe. He tugged her closer and lowered his mouth to hers, seeking her lips with the lightest of touches.

When he felt her her body press against his, the anxiety in him relaxed a little. Then she tilted her head to find the perfect angle to answer his kiss and his heart surged beneath his crisp, linen shirt. Time slowed and Felicity’s purse met the ground with a dull, quiet, thud.

Oliver was barely aware that he was moving them, stepping back to the bed, lifting her and draping her across his lap as he sat down. He memorized everything from the exotic perfume of the soap she wore to the whimper she made when he reluctantly pulled away and rested his nose against the soft pink shell of her ear.

“Wow,” she gasped, followed by a “meep” noise signaling she had meant to keep that comment internal. Soon, Oliver’s body was shaking with a laugh he tried to stifle by pulling her closer.

“Yes, wow,” he added, honestly, and also to assure she didn’t feel alone in expressing appreciation because it was the best first kiss he’d ever had. It was the last first kiss he ever wanted. But he kept that to himself for now.

Now, they had a serious mission. As much as he wanted to set that aside and focus on the woman in his arms, he knew that. Oliver took a step back but continued to hold her.

“Oliver.”

“We should probably try to focus on tonight now. This dinner with Crofton. The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can talk about this and lots of other things.”

Felicity studied his face and the way the corners of his mouth were turning up. He was right. She gave him a definitive nod.

“Why don’t you go in there and finish getting ready?” he added.

“Okay,” she sighed and ambled to stand.

“Then you can tell me about our new covers, although I gather you are the lead on this now and I’m the boyfriend.”

Felicity headed toward the bathroom, picking up her handbag along the way. She stopped when she got to the doorway and bit her lip. If she wasn’t still flushed from the kiss, he might have noticed her sheepish look.

“Oliver…”

“You did the right thing. I’m not thrilled that you are more involved than we planned, but you made the right call. And we’re partners. Sometimes that means that you’ll be the one out in front and I have to make peace with that. I’ll still worry, but you are remarkable. No matter what happens, I never forget that.”

“Partners.” Felicity smiled at him, warmth and pride filling her. “Thank you.”

Oliver beamed back at her and leaned back on the bed, supported by his elbows.

Just as she was about to close the door, she peeked out. “I’ll wear my hair like this.”

Good, he mouthed to her.

“And it’s possible Celeste is under the impression that you are my boy toy.” She quickly shut the door, leaving Oliver to process her words and their ramifications.

“Felicity,” he groaned, then flopped against the bed.

#Olicity #fanfiction #romance #latersexytimes

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dwarvencraftsdirectfromorzammar · 5 years

Text

Corpse Roads

So i watched Original Sin and i thought i would write something small for it. I had so many ideas that went nowhere and i ended up with this. I feel like its all over the place but i cant spend more time thinking about it so im posting it. Also part 2 is written already, it just needs to brew aka lay in my docs till im satisfied with it.

He's dying, slowly bleeding out in empty train carriage and he thinks about a lot of things.

He thinks about his work as a policeman, work that made him human again, work that mattered and fulfilled him.

He thinks about his mother, knowing she is safe, taken care of and finally - hopefully with some peace. Hoping that this would not break that fragile peace.

He thinks about Sophie and her warm little smiles, hoping she won't be sad for long, that she won't feel guilty. That she will find happiness in Macau or wherever her heart might take her.

He thinks of Lu Zi Ming. Man who didn't kill her sister. Father of man he almost killed because of that. He wonders about him for a second. Would he feel better if Lu Zi Ming was one to actually do it, knowing he is behind bars? Would he be able to take his revenge if there was one to take on him?

He thinks about his work for Mr. Chen, how miserable he was with it and how good he was at it. He will miss it, like you miss a memory long passed that warms you occasionally.

He thinks of Egg Waffle, his colorful shirt after his vacation in Thailand. And Lao Gao, Lao Shi and whole unit.

He thinks of his sister, how much he misses her and that finally he will be able to say sorry to her. He hopes that she will forgive him.

He thinks of Lu Li. He won't be able to keep his promise to him. But this is for the best. Even his death will be fight for his happiness.

He thinks of everyone and is full of hope.

He thinks of Lu Li. And he hopes.

First few weeks Chi Zhen is strictly forbidden to leave his bed let alone the house. In his pitiful state, recovery is painfully slow.

He is trapped in uncomfortable bed with nothing to pass the time but watch the sun move behind the blinds. Room smelled awful to begin with but the oppressive heat makes everything worse. With yellow cracking paint on the walls and bloody floors nobody bothers to clean it's like he is waiting for a butcher. Chi Zhen feels like one big festering wound you constantly pick at until it bleeds and then leaves a nasty scar. It would be better he was dead. Better to put him to rest.

So Lu Li doesn't have to choose, doesn't have to act, can focus on his happiness only. So his mother doesn't have to go thru the humiliation, her remnant child, a killer at large. It's better to die, to make their choice for them.

From his makeshift hospital bed he plots and plans, pulls on every string, calls on every favor that can kill Chi Zhen and bury him for good. With a little bit of help he ties some of the loose threads and leaves Lanya. He thanks his saviors with 'I owe you’ and he knows they will come collecting if death won't be faster.

After Chi Zhen leaves Lanya he can finally breathe easy. Knot in his chest loosens and fresh air finally enters his lungs.

That knot pulls itself tight again after he arrives in Hong Kong. Choices waiting in Hong Kong are somewhat familiar and completely new. There is a choice of how to live and if Chi Zhen slips back into familiar but new crowds, familiar and new routines he tells himself over and over it was not just a choice born out of desperation.

He wonders about Lu Li's reaction, it doesn't matter. He is good at this job, that's what matters. Still, Chi Zhen despise Hong Kong, with the worst it's everything like home and best is nothing like at home. One room dingy apartment, in never quiet neighborhood is his home now. Stream of people milling around, having muffled conversations behind his doors are a constant now and sleepless nights are chased away only with a bottle of rum in his system. Colorful lights behind windows are always illuminating the filth in his flat but he can't be bothered to even begin to clean anything. Overall, it's miserable situation so he fills his head with what ifs.

If he returns home he is going to buy his own apartment or better yet, a house. Closer to work and closer to the retirement home, somewhere you can hear only birds and leafs outside your windows. He is going to fill it with ridiculous and ugly expensive carpets, that you hang on the walls that his many guests would marvel at. To match the carpets there would be delicate and colorful tea sets that nobody would ever touch. Sitting behind glass, picturesque and useless. There would be parties held every second week, that kind, where you sit around talking instead dance around drinking.

If he could return to Lu Li he would endlessly tease him about how ugly he looked when he cried at the scrapyard, telling him it didn't matter because he was the only one to see it. Chi Zhen would invite him to his new house and wait for Lu Li to tell him its most ridiculous thing he saw. And Chi Zhen would answer - ridiculous is good as long it's by your side. Then he would point out he has particular outfits to match with carpets and tea sets and Lu Li would burst out laughing, trying to hide his face behind his hands.

If his mother accepted his apologies and his hugs he would take her to that dream house, with two nurses and everything she asked for. Chi Zhen would cook her favorite foods as she once did for him, make jasmine tea every night to drink with her even when he hates it.

If Lu Li would allow it, he would spoil Yinuo rotten, buy her that toy that caught his eye last week, take her to see all of Lanya while telling her tales of rest of the world.

If Chi Zhen had the courage, he would go back to Lu Li's side and never leave.

His head is so full of what ifs and he can't breathe. He stops thinking of what ifs and he breaths just a little easier.

Chi Zhen keeps track, he keeps track of everything.

He knows every word said in the halls of retirement home. He knows of every little thing that happens in Hua City Police Department. From investigation into Dong Lingqi, which is honestly so stupid and risky, to Lao Shi's daughter expecting a second baby.

He carefully stores every bit of knowledge and tries to take deep breaths.

Everything happens so fast, Chi Zhen is no longer a wanted man in Lanya and Lu Li gets a promotion. And still Chi Zhen doesn't want to leave Hong Kong, or he can't leave Hong Kong.

He saw Lu Li on TV that day, in pristine looking uniform talking about achievements of Hua City Police Department and Chi Zhen wasn't really listening.

He saw Lu Li, all sharp angles, jaw set tight, talking about justice and all he could think of was that he has no right. He has no right to go back, to crush into his life like nothing happened. Like they could just continue where it stopped, like Lu Li waited for him to come back. So Chi Zhen just smiles at the image in front of him. Lu Li looks good, comfortable in his new position, healthy with solid weight and pretty color in his cheeks. Chi Zhen hopes he is happy and shuts down the TV.

He starts thinking about his future in Hong Kong, what he really wants to do and he stops thinking about Hong Kong shortly after, when he gets the news that his mother is sick.

#original sin #原生之罪 #chilu #fun fact: i hate jasmine tea and more then jasmine tea i hate green tea with jasmine in it #what a waste of perfectly good green tea #also i cant believe i didnt write any dialogue #also also second part is the reunion #also also also more i write more i realiye how limited my english is #how basic my sentence structure is and my vocabulary is jut shit #so yeaaaah #enjoy i guess #chi zhen #lu li

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sailorgreywolf-legacy · 6 years

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Cabin by the Shore

This is for the third prompt of rare pair week which is Domestic

England was awake, but he did not open his eye yet. He was comfortable in bed, with the blanket pulled up comfortably over him. He was warm, and he knew that the air outside of this space would be chilled. It was fall, on the cusp of winter, and he preferred the feeling of soft cotton sheets and warmth to the outside world.

He let his mind drift as his eyes remained resolutely closed. He could hear the creak of floorboards in another part of the cabin, the sure sign that Portugal was already up and moving around.

He smiled at that thought. It was an old sailor’s habit to rise with the sun, and Portugal had never shaken it. England had managed to finally stop waking up with first light.

Portugal had always woken up early, and seemed to have no desire to change. But, he was always considerate to not wake the person next to him.

England was only slightly disappointed by the fact that if he turned, he would not see his partner laying on the pillow next to him, with a warm smile and his brown waves splayed across the pillow. That was one of his favorite parts of some mornings.

With a small sigh, England decided that it was better to get out of bed. Portugal would be waiting for him, and that was enough motivation to at least abandon the warmth of his bed.

He opened his eyes. The ceiling above him was a white expanse. But, as he looked at it, he could see the light pencil sketches where Portugal had drawn in stars.

It was a new project that he was embarking on. Portugal wanted to paint the ceiling of their bedroom like the night sky that had been a steadfast guide to both of them in the age of sail. England was certain that it would be a beautiful sight once it was finished.

It was one of his partner’s best traits that when he set his mind to something he did it and he always did it well. It was going to be modeled off of the constellations in the sky in London in midsummer. That had been the season the first time Portugal had visited him in his own home and brought him salted cod and fresh lemons.

It had been so long ago, but England still held the memory so dear to his heart. The idea that Portugal remembered it so fondly too filled his heart with familiar warmth.

England slowly got up, letting the cold air into his warm sanctuary. It was not as cold as he thought, and it might have been pleasant if he had not been so warm in bed.

He grabbed the thick robe that was hanging on the end of the driftwood bed frame. The robe had been a gift from Canada, who had intended it for when England visited him. It was soft, but surprisingly warm. He wrapped it around himself, before walking over to the chest of drawers where he kept his clothing.

The framed photo sitting on it was one of his favorites. It was Hong Kong and Macau playing a card game together. It had been taken at a chance meeting off the coast of China, when both he and Portugal had brought their colonies to meet each other. England smiled to himself as he remembered how the boys had easily gotten along.

He opened drawers and pulled out a pair of pants and a sweater. The sweater was thick and bright white, with a little golden crown embroidered on the sleeves. It was supposed to be a reference to the fact that England was named for a king.

He turned around and caught sight of another picture, on the side of the bed opposite his. It was of Brazil, Portugal’s favorite colony. She was dressed for riding, with her hair swept up under a hat. The smile on her face was familiar and playful. England found it amusing that, though she and Portugal were not related, they both had the same smile. It was a smile that made it impossible not to smile back.

As England pulled on the clothing, he let his mind drift to the other room, where Portugal was undoubtedly making breakfast. He knew he should help, but he knew that Portugal liked to cook alone, and enjoyed feeling like he was providing for his partner.

England finished by rolling up his cuffs on the sweater before walking into the kitchen. Portugal was standing at the counter with a mug of coffee clasped in his hands.

The brunette smiled when he saw England and he said, “Good morning, dear.” England walked over and kissed the other softly on the cheek. He felt Portugal take his hand and squeeze it affectionately. He reciprocated, “Good morning, darling.”

The coffee in the cup in Portugal’s hand smelled delicious, though England had never been particularly inclined towards coffee. He knew it was a gift, the same one that Brazil sent Portugal every father’s day. She always sent coffee, wrapped in a ribbon and accompanied by a card. Portugal always drank his the same way: two cubes of sugar, no cream.

England pulled away only long enough to say, “I am going to make a cup of tea. Do you want anything?” Portugal shook his head with a good natured smile that was so usual of him. He replied, his hand still on England’s, “I already made breakfast while you were sleeping. It’s on the veranda. I will see you out there once you have your tea.”

England loved the soft lingering touch as Portugal’s fingers trailed over his hand as he walked away. After so long, they could feel what the other meant through the little moments. England felt a smile firmly on his face as he put on the kettle.

He looked out the window at the serene ocean beyond the walls of their seaside cabin. It must be low tide, because the ocean seemed very far away. Usually they could hear the waves when they opened the windows, and the sound brought back fond memories of sailing.

He saw Portugal sitting on one of the chairs on the porch, looking out over the water. He looked so serene. England couldn’t help but think that after all the years of war in Europe, it was beautiful that they could have peace here.

They had started building this cabin nearly a century ago in the hope that they would be able to spend time here together in peace. Now, they could spend these weeks building a home away from politics and intrigue.

The shrill whistle of the kettle broke him out of his thoughts. He carefully placed a teabag in a cup before reaching for the kettle and pouring the boiling water. It was a routine so familiar that he could do it without much thought.

His thoughts were already beyond it, on the porch with his partner. He was at the door with the cup of tea in his hand without much conscious thought.

As the door swung open, he was met with the comforting smell of the sea. The slightly cold briny sharpness always felt like home. That was part of the reason they had chose this place to build this little paradise. It was near the ocean that had brought them both profit and prestige.

England sat next to Portugal, who immediately took his free hand in his own. Portugal said, his voice strong enough to carry over the time of the breaking waves, “What do you want to do today?”

England turned to look at him, and really considered the question. So long as there weren’t any political crisis any time during the day, they had all the time in the world. They had already agreed that they would use this time to work on this little haven they had built together.

He took a drink of the tea before he said, “Do you want to work on the ceiling? I was thinking that I could find some charts that could help with the accuracy.” Portugal nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. Then he said, “I would like that. It will be beautiful when we finish it.”

England smiled back at Portugal. He could see the enthusiasm in the man’s eyes. And he was glad to be a part of that. Portugal took another sip of coffee and then said, “I think I made a sketch of the sky in my logs from that trip.”

There were bookshelves full of their ship’s logs in the other rooms, though some of the diaries and logs were still in chests. With time, they hoped to be able to organize all of them for easy reference.

England thought about what else might be in a formal diary from their early relationships. He said, “Are you sure that you want me to read your first impressions of me?”

He said it as teasingly as possible, because he suspected the answer already. Portugal said, leaning closer, “You don’t have to worry, dear. I’ve always liked you.”

England put down his cup of tea and took a piece of toast from the plate on the table. He could feel the warmth in his chest at the idea that Portugal had held affection for him even from the first time they had met.

He said, happy to continue the conversation, “I will see if I can find them. And then, later, we can walk on the beach.” He was met with another sweet smile. Portugal said, changing the subject, “I’ve always wondered, does your boss know that you are here.”

England shook his head. The older he got, the less he felt the need to provide explanation for his whereabouts. That applied even more to the place he had built with his partner to be away from that. He replied, “The Prime Minister does not need to know. But Lilibet has my phone number for an emergency. “

Portugal nodded and took another absentminded drink of coffee. He then said, “I don’t usually tell them. They know I am on vacation, and that is enough.” Portugal then met his partner’s eyes and said, “And this is for us.” He squeezed England’s hand affectionately.

England looked down at their intertwined hands. The early morning sun glinted off of the silver bands that they both wore on their fingers. It had been his idea to buy the rings and wear them while they were at the cabin.

It was impossible for them to marry; that would involve some sort of political union that would be completely untenable for them. Even if they had agreed, in quiet moments together, that they would like to spend their lives together, it was not possible.

But, while they were here, they could wear the rings. It was a symbolic gesture, but one that showed their commitment to each other. It also allowed the mortals in the nearby town to make the correct assumption about their relationship.

The rings made them appear to be a married couple. It felt accurate enough. They were two men who had made a promise to each other to be faithful, and they had kept it through all of the trials of the world. Even through war and temptation, they had kept their vow.

Now their children were gone, off leading their own lives. In the twilight years of their glory days, they could enjoy this time and peace together, building a home away from it all.

That was not so different from marriage, was it?

It didn’t feel like it. This felt like love, and that was more than enough.

#aphrarepairsweek2018 #porteng #engport #aph england #aph portugal

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